When Malfoys marry Mudbloods
by secretdiary
Summary: My 2nd fic, DM&HG. MATURE. Why would the Dark Lord ever want the son of one his most loyal and pure followers to wed a filthy Mudblood? Completed July 05
1. Following the Dark Lord's orders

UPDATED A/N: This story was written in July 2004. Please keep in mind that at this point in the series we were left with Harry's last living relation being murdered. I am not exaggerating when I say I was DYING to know what was going to happen next (okay so I am exaggerating but you get the point). I couldn't believe I had to wait, Sirius was my favorite character. This is the result of trying to fill in the blanks myself. A crumb to hold me over. Sharing it with others has been an amazing experience. A dear friend will slowly (slooooowly) but surely do one last edit and slight rewrite to this story. there is no set pace, she is a busy new mommy. But if anyone is up to it, feel free to PM any type-o's you find to this account, she will surely appreciate the extra pairs of eyes.

~xxx~

A/N: I can't remember how long ago I wrote the 1st chapter to this, but I decided to pick up the rest of it, hopefully it will turn out to be what I want it to be. There's a few things I want y'all to know about first though.

It's already a little harder because the plot I have in mind takes place away from Hogwarts (GASP) which means I don't have as many people and settings already predetermined by the great and mighty Rowling, and I have to come up with some things all by myself. It's terrifying I know, but I'll try my best, and I hope you all will let me know how I am doing as far as setting the scene.

I should also let you know that I am taking some of my own initiative as far as developing characters we don't know much about (I give them made up 1st names and personalities, but I try to keep them as J.K. as I can). I am also doing something that can be quite dangerous: making up a few of my own characters. Eeek. I hope they don't suck too bad.

Constructive criticism on these ventures will be greatly appreciated!!!

This is based after book 5 but they are all 18 or at least 17 going on 18, what they've been doing since 6th and 7th year will slowly be filled in.

I'm nervous posting these first parts because they're all I've got. I can see the ending in my mind its just getting there that will be hard and since I'm in and out of town a lot over the summer, updates may vary in speed, but never stop checking! You know I'll update as fast as I can.

As always, I love reviews of all kinds. They keep me going and they keep my writing less crappy, so if you're by chance feeling generous, don't hesitate to let me know what you really think! I'd really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy this!

~xxx~

The eerie outline of the huge derelict house blackened the night sky. The townsfolk of Little Hangleton never ventured up the hill it was founded on to see it in any more detail than just a silhouette.

They said it was haunted, and judging by its damp, mangled remains it was easy to see why. Most of its windows and entrances had been boarded up, and wild vines grew unruly around it, like no one had really lived there for years.

The full account of what truly happened there has been lost in re-telling. Now, the story that the older children tell the littler ones tends to include an old evil gardener, with a hoe for a hand, who got away with murder years ago.

Who the victims were exactly the older children don't know, but, as the children say, the gardener killed three people with some mysterious poison that eludes coroners, leaving the cause of death to appear completely unknown.

The town was very angry that the officers didn't have enough evidence to convict the man, but when the old hermit gardener disappeared years later the town agreed he must have died without anyone noticing.

It is believed he haunts the old abandoned house so no one will be able to find where he hid his legendary poison and finally prove him guilty of his brutal cold blooded crimes.

When people poke their noses too close for his comfort, they are attacked by a huge vicious man-eating snake with evil yellow eyes that steal your soul!

The story works well enough to give the small children of the town nightmares for years, but the adults found it silly.

Any real life snake that large living on it's own in that part of the world was so absurd. It could never survive without an owner of some kind and no one is ever seen near or in the house.

The place itself is so creepy that despite the pure nonsense of a story containing unheard of lethal and undetectable poisons and monstrous snakes, the numerous stories, incidents, encounters and overall ghostly vibes of the estate leads adults as well as children of all ages to avoid the frightening house at all costs.

Two of the Dark Lord's favorite things; complete privacy and people terrified out of their wits.

Fear, he found, was the easiest way to control people. With everyone in Little Hangleton too scared to come up to the house, he was free to go about other prevalent matters at his own leisure without worry of interruption.

On one otherwise unimportant night, a stern looking middle-aged man suddenly apparated into the old ramshackle house's foyer. It had been storming that evening, and when light managed to find a way in through the boarded windows the entryway was lit up with lightening. The man could see that it was empty, with dust piles and uncountable cobwebs in every corner.

He had seen it before; he had been there numerous times. He was never seen by the townspeople, of course, because of an anti-revealing charm placed on the structure. This part of the house was, as thought, completely deserted and unused. The important things all happened below.

Looking particularly foul, even for him, he waited impatiently for the owner of the footsteps he heard clunking up the old moldy staircase behind the basement door to appear.

It creaked open slowly and loudly.

"Who goes there?" said a gruff voice.

"Bloody hell Crabbe, you know perfectly well who this is, now hurry up I want to get this over with."

"Aye, sir, I apologize ….must be sure, Master's orders…"

"And what exactly would you do if you found me to be unwelcome Crabbe?" the man laughed cruelly, "beat me in a duel?" He didn't wait for a reply, "Hurry now, you're wasting my time."

Crabbe opened the door all the way now and beckoned the man to follow. Upon reaching the basement they walked to the darkest, furthest corner of the dodgy cellar. Crabbe tapped on the cold stone bricks in just the right order and suddenly the wall began deteriorating. Magically, an archway appeared, leading to yet another large long staircase. Not at all derelict like the previous one, this one was made of fine black stone and whirled downward, aligned on the walls were torches.

Crabbe led the man deep, deep underground until they came to a great opening with an extremely high vaulted ceiling. It appeared now, that they were in the main hall of a giant underground mansion. The walls were adorned with ancient paintings and tapestries and above them was a huge chandelier made of fine black crystal. The house was over all cold, dark and gothic, but beautiful and clean none the less. Centered in front of them was two immensely tall french-doors, black as night, with the skull remains of heads so tiny there was no doubt they were shrunken as door knobs, and two gargoyle door knockers.

"Did you wish to see him?" asked Crabbe.

His mind's eye flashed with the memory of the last conversations he had with the person residing on the other side of those doors….

… … …_"As one of my most loyal subjects," said that cold firm voice, "I trust I can count on your blind obedience in my most recent endeavors. I know the details are vague to you but your faithfulness in me should be reason enough to go about my orders correct?"_

_"Yes my Lord, of course, but I still don't understand…"_

_"Enough!" yelled the voice, "Not everything is for you to understand right now. All you need to know is that it is for the good of all of us in reaching our goal, and that it is my will. Is that perfectly understood?"_

_"Yes my Lord. It shall be done." The man said………_

"No. Not today. He knows I'm only here to collect what he asks of me," was all that was replied.

"Very well then, it's this way." Crabbe started walking again down one of the numerous dark hallways that extended off of the great circular first room. The man followed hastily, his long black cape and long white hair flowing behind him.

They descended deeper into the earth and took many twists and turns until at last they stopped at a square metal door. Crabbe fumbled with his key ring in the dim light, finally finding what he was looking for, stuck into the keyhole with loud clanks and at last a deafening squeal of the door as he pushed it open with all his strength.

Before them now was a long narrow walkway and to the left and to the right of them, jail cells. Jail cells occupied with various different prisoners, all looking equally disdainful, some more energetic and alert than others. The ones lying still, too weak and unable to respond to their entrance, had surely been there the longest.

"Just down here now…" lured Crabbe as the two walked past the prisoners. The man responded to both the cold hateful and delusionally hopeful stares with sneers of disgust. His resentment was building inside of him now.

He didn't know why he was being asked to do this. Never would he even for a second want to do this on his own accord. And his _own son_… the risk of his own prestigious name, his reputation… How would he be able to stand being known as a muggle-lover??

I better be bloody rewarded for this, thought the man bitterly.

Crabbe stopped before the second to last cell on the left. The man looked in on the occupant. An incredibly skinny and dirty young woman laid there. Clothed only in brown remnants of a robe, now just tattered rags, and with the majority of her matted hair covering her face. She slept on the cold stone floor, curled up in a ball.

Lucius Malfoy flinched at the sight of her. "Filthy mudblood," he uttered harshly.


	2. Ever wake up in a strange motel room?

………_Hermione was trembling. Not because of the soreness or undeniable cold, half of her clothes being torn off and dangling. She was trembling from fear. Fear and anger. She could kill Ivan right then, and his damn father. Her arm ached from keeping her wand posed. She only had Podmore on her side. The two of them against six._

_"STURGIS!" Hermione screamed, "NOOOO!" ………_

Hermione jumped a bit in her sleep. Next her eye lids were fluttering, her head was banging… and yet… the rest of her was modestly comfortable. And for that reason alone she was cautious. However, she doubted any place could be worse than a jail cell in the house of Voldemort, so in that way, she couldn't help but feel relief.

It may have been her dreams that awoke her, but it was her nose that perked her up; the rich aroma of herbs and spices simmering, _not_ rancid straw. She was on something soft, opposed to a wood plank. There were no soft murmurs or uncontrollable wails of the other prisoners. Not only was it quiet, but also warm. She was no longer in her cell. Had she been rescued? No, she couldn't jump to conclusions yet.

She didn't open her eyes. It might not be safe. She'd continue to pretend to sleep for the time being. Gather information. Follow her training of constant vigilance.

Her mind tingled in the way it does when you have to struggle to remember something. She closed her eyes tightly and thought hard.

…She recalled Crabbe, shaking her, getting her to rise. She had been exhausted; she didn't know what he wanted. Surely they weren't going to torture her again? They had given up weeks ago. Lately they had just fed her enough to stay alive, barely alive, but alive none the less.

Did they think she knew something new? Didn't they know that they might as well kill her? She'd never tell them where Dumbledore was. Well… she liked to think she'd never tell… if she had in fact known where he was. But she didn't.

No, she remembered slowly, they didn't want to torture her… "Someone is here to take you to your new home little lassie," rang Crabbe's voice in her head. Then he had hoisted her up… and she saw the face of the most unexpected man.

Why would Lucius Malfoy be outside her cell?

Her memory of the last few hours came crashing back in a rush. They had dragged her limp body, since she appeared unable to walk on her own, out of the deep dark labyrinth below and into the foyer of an old derelict house. It was there that she made a desperate attempt to shake herself free of their grasp with the insane hope of making it out of the house. Maybe even run to safety.

But, even if she had made it out of the house, there's no way she would've had the strength to run all the way to the little village.

She managed to knock Crabbe down in her struggle to escape though, which was always nice.

It was at the point that Lucius stunned her in the back of the head.

She could only assume that led up to where she was now, her head throbbing from a combination of injury and nightmare. She remained just as confused as she was the moment she saw Lucius the first time. What could he possibly want with her? Where had he taken her? Her thoughts stopped abruptly, she heard someone speaking.

"That will be enough, I can take care of the rest myself… go draw a hot bath," Hermione heard Lucius' voice speak.

"Yes sir," said a new unfamiliar voice, croaky and submissive.

There was a clamor of noise, the sounds of creaking cupboards and tinkering dishes, chairs scrapping across the floor and the rustle of Lucius' robes. Then the noise of running water sounded at least one room away. She then felt the presence of someone standing over her.

"Enough of the charade," said Lucius, "I know you're awake."

Hermione opened her eyes, immediately surveying her surroundings.

It appeared she was in some shoddy motel room. Two single beds, a small little kitchen and table, a closet, a bathroom door… There was a window beyond Lucius. It showed a soft orange hue, it must be the sunset. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had seen daylight. She could also judge from the view that they weren't on the first level of whatever building she was in. Saying nothing, she just looked up at him.

"You hungry?" he growled.

Shocked at the vague but insinuated offer of food, Hermione intended to remain silent, but her stomach betrayed her and growled most loudly. A growl so desperate it was physically painful, and in Hermione's weak condition it shot throughout her whole body.

"Of course you are," Lucius answered coldly, "Can you get up? Your stew is getting cold."

Hesitantly Hermione rose. Normally, she'd love to spit on anything Lucius would offer her, but she hadn't eaten in three days, and even then it was gruel. Right then, her hands were shaking at the very smell of the stew and her body's most basic need for survival was overriding all else. Before she even realized it she was seated at the table and she had a heaping spoonful in her mouth.

So delicious… hearty hot stew, with soft carrots, potatoes and tender chunks of beef in a thick flavorful broth! She shoveled in at least three more bites, swallowing them down.

Instantly she began to warm up from the inside as her tongue slowly registered the feeling of food in her mouth, and the satisfaction of swallowing it down into her belly. She felt her sore tired muscles revive with energy, every sense she had awakening to full life. It was only then after a small revival that she realized Lucius was staring at her.

'Oh god,' she thought, a large bite remaining half chewed in her mouth, 'I'm eating poison…'

Lucius laughed as the look of horror overcame her. "If I wanted to kill you Granger," he said harshly, "I'd do it with feeling, upfront and obvious. I wouldn't poison you like some rat. Why, I'd WANT you to know that I was about to kill you."

Hermione continued to stare at him. He went to the icebox and pulled out a jug. He poured her a tall glass of milk. Cold, fresh, creamy milk. Hermione looked him in the eyes one more time and then hastily grabbed the glass and gulped it down.

She didn't care. She didn't care at the moment that Lucius Malfoy was showing her kindness. She wanted to eat, and for right then in that moment it was paradise. She hadn't even noticed there were fresh hot rolls on the table too! She shoved one into her mouth whole and then grabbed another; ripping it in half and at least taking the time to sloppily butter that one.

Lucius stared at her with disgust as she continued to shove food down her throat.

Savage… he thought to himself, how horrible it was to be "nice" to her.

"When you've finished," Lucius spoke again, "You must wash the rubbish off of yourself. Now I have every intention of giving you privacy… but mark my words, there is no way to escape from the bathroom. There is a tiny window, and while you are repulsively skinny, you won't fit. So please, just don't even bother."

Hermione swallowed a huge mouthful of food before she was able to speak, "Why am I here?" she finally asked, her bowl and glass now being empty and her stomach oh so wonderfully full. "What do you want?" she demanded.

"Settle down!" he yelled angrily. Then he pressed his lips together, as if what he just said would get him in trouble. He took a deep breath and smoothed his robes; "Everything will be explained to you after you have cleaned yourself up."

Hermione looked at her filthy hands. He-who-must-not-be-named never let the prisoners wash, just one more thing he could do to rob human beings of their dignity.

She was confused and frightened, but she got up from the table anyways. After all she had no strength to fight. No place to go. Besides, so far this was countless times better than the Riddle house. With a life as uncertain as hers, when you were offered a bath, hey, you might as well take it.

A short, elderly house elf came out of a room. He looked up at her, gesturing through the door. She entered the steamy room to see an old tub, filled to the brim with hot soapy water. The door closed behind her.

For the first time in months Hermione saw herself in a mirror. Practically every square inch of her was smeared with dirt. Her hair was so weighed down by filth and grime that she had no curl left, most of her hair sticking to her, matted down onto her neck. Her gray cheekbones were protruding, and her knees were ridiculously knobby, especially since she had such naturally long legs. She had lost so much weight since she had been captured, her curves were gone, save for the protruding of her hip bones. However, due to the fullness of her stomach, she currently had a little potbelly, and there was evidence of a little rosy color returning to her cheeks.

Folded on a chair were a plain black skirt and white blouse and a pine green robe, with a toothbrush set out on top. Hermione didn't dwell on her reflection or the new items for long though, because the heat of the water was calling to her.

The wave of relaxation that over came her almost made her faint from relief as she slowly slipped into the bath. Her achy, abused frame melted into the silky hotness of the water. The nourishing, life saving food in her stomach happily being digested, she reveled in a peaceful moment of tranquility. She had no idea that Lucius Malfoy would soon be telling her she'd wed Draco Malfoy.

~xxx~

Draco Malfoy sat tensely in an overstuffed black leather chair, his fingers gripping the arms tightly.

Across the living room on a matching black sofa sat a weeping girl and his disdainful looking mother, who, obviously annoyed, was trying her best to fake sincerity to her husband's best friend's obnoxious teenage daughter, rubbing the crying girl's back.

"Now, now Pansy," she drawled, sipping from her wine glass before continuing, "I know it's hard but we all must make sacrifices."

Pansy only wailed harder.

Narcissa attempted to block her out with sound of her own reassuring voice, "The Dark Lord works in mysterious ways after all… surely this arrangement won't last forever. Just you wait and see; soon we will all be blessed beyond our wildest dreams!" Barely believing her own words, she then drowned her mouth with more wine.

"My… poor… Draco…" Pansy yelped in between hiccups, "I just… don't under…stand! How could the Dark Lord…do… this… to…US!" and she buried her face into the seat cushion, stifling a howl. Narcissa rolled her eyes.

Her victim here? Hardly! It would be her, Narcissa, who would have to house the beast. Feed her and cloth her and God forbid, try to tame her! Like a muggle-born could ever be passed off as a dignified Pureblood? Just being in the same room with her, why, the absurdity of it! Like she had time to potty train a dirty little muggle-born savage? If Narcissa didn't have a staff of 25 house elves and an endless liquor cabinet, then maybe, just maybe, she'd shed a tear or two. But Pansy was being dramatic.

Who bloody cared if Pansy didn't get to shag her only son for a while? Her house was going to be tainted by the presence of a mudblood! How embarrassing!

Pansy sprang up, ran to Draco at the chair and fell to his feet, laying her face into his knees.

"I don't care about the conditions! I'll still come see you Draco! We'll still be together! We'll find away."

Draco grimaced as Pansy continued to cry onto his nice black slacks, but said nothing. How he wished she would just get off him and shut up. Only she could make _this_ worse.

Narcissa must have read his mind, "My dear child," she said in a fake cooing voice, pouring herself another glass of wine, "I'm sorry, but the Dark Lord has specifically requested that Draco not receive the company of other women during this arrangement," she gulped down half the glass, "This…'MARRIAGE'…" she quoted with her fingers in a tipsy like fashion, "must appear as legitimate as_ pothible_," she said to Pansy, lisping now and her head wobbling about like a puppet, getting drunker by the minute.

"Now, my poor little Pansy, say your good byes. Draco surely must be very upset and having you around… you… you pretty little thing," his mother said, lying most horribly, "…must be making it just that much more difficult."

However, Pansy, dumber than dirt, believed ever word of it. "Oh," she cried, "You're right! I'm so sorry Draco, me prancing around, looking fabulous, and you, sitting there, knowing you can't have me. It must be so torturous! Will you ever forgive me?"

"I think I just may be able to," Draco said flatly, trying not look her in the face.

Pansy sniffled a little more, stood up and threw her arms around Draco's neck, "Good Bye my sweet Draky-Poo. Don't you worry! I'll wait for you! Your mother's right, this isn't forever!" And she slammed her thin spitty lips onto his.

She peeled off of him, letting out a pitifully dramatic huff of despair and then sauntered out of the room, her hand to her forehead. Draco immediately wiped his lips with his sleeve.

'Ugh!' he thought, 'she knows I hate it when she kisses me outside of a bed!' he shivered with disgust, 'At least she's gone!'

"Well wasn't that horrid," said Narcissa.

"To say the least..." Draco muttered, hunching over in the chair, "What time did you say we could expect… them?"

"Well let me think," a stressed Narcissa said, lighting a long thin cigarette, taking a drag as she reclined back onto the sofa, "Your father said he shall return home at four o'clock with your little wife to be."

The word shut down Draco.

"Wife".

He was so angry, and there was nothing he could do about it. No tantrum or begging or negotiation would ever stop his father from making him do this. For if it was Voldemort's order, which meant nothing could stop Lucius from carrying it out, no matter how preposterous he knew the request was.

Draco would punch through the wall if only his mother weren't right there. Him? Forced to marry? To Granger none the less! The pathetically nerdy best friend of Harry Potter! The bossy insufferable know-it-all! The muggleborn loser who had the nerve to attend Hogwarts! The one person he couldn't stand! He hated her! He despised her! He… had to confess… it wasn't just her that made his stomach turn.

"Little Wife," his mother had said. The words echoed in his mind. 'Wife,' he thought, 'Is it just me, or doesn't wife mean the woman you'll love and cherish until you die! The wonderful, beautiful, special woman you're lucky enough to know… the woman you CHOOSE to spend the rest of your life with, and if you're good enough she just may have you back, should you be so blessed…'

But how could Draco voice his distress to Lucius? Such petty emotions like longing for true love… surely Lucius would beat him for being so weak.

Purebloods didn't marry for love. They married for power, for wealth, for allegiance, for passing on the precious line. Hardly for love. Every pureblood marriage these days was a façade. Charades of romance were merely to impress others. In reality, pureblood marriages were all but planned from birth.

Why else would he date Pansy Parkinson, the daughter of Lucius' best friend? She was the most daft, vapid and homely girls he had ever come across Perhaps her body was of the appealing type, and thank Merlin for that, otherwise sleeping with her would be damn near impossible. But even that was getting… skanky, for lack of a better word. And good God, the quantity of make up on just one face! The girl spent so much time charming and remedying herself she reeked of potion products.

_Any_ girl could jinx away unwanted belly fat everyday or enchant herself bigger, more ridiculous breasts, and be stupid enough to believe a guy couldn't feel the difference. What Draco would give for a natural beauty; a sweet, luscious, real girl. Who was sweet, strong and educated, and had an indefinable passion for life… and for him.

He didn't love Pansy, to say the least.

But as the outlook seemed, he'd never be allowed to love anyone.

And this whole forced marriage thing only made it that much more definite! What chance was there now, should he by some fluke chance even meet the girl of his dreams, to live happily ever after? Lucius would be happy at least, Draco's secret obsession with love was just about dead.

And that bloody Hermione Granger! Honestly, could things get any worse? Only the top, most miniscule population of Pureblood society, that is to say only the most elite of the Death Eaters, would know it was all part of some bigger and mysterious plan. That left anyone who was anyone else in the wizarding world, Pure or not, to gossip about him, make fun of him. The mudblood loving husband. Voldemort's orders or not, Draco and his 'little wife' would be the talk of the society. Even the peons, the _mixed_-bloods, the _nothings_ would have cause to snicker about him.

The most aggravating factor of all was that it was pointless! It would never work. Hermione, the stubborn prat she was, would never play along, no matter how much they threatened her.

This "engagement" would be announced, his ridicule and backbiting would commence, the whole family would look like demented trolls prancing around _pretending_ it was legitimate, but come the big day, no matter what, Granger wouldn't walk down an aisle if a wand was to her head.

Basically, it will just be the most irreparable embarrassment of his life and stifle out to an end.

Why her of all people? And why him as well? Why not Crabbe? Or even Goyle? He hated his life. Hated it!

He could scream. He could holler out loud, pick up the armchair and throw it out the three-story window! He could knock off all of the thousand-galleon goblin made trinkets from the fireplace mantel and stomp on them. But he didn't.

He pulled himself out of his trance of angry despair, and he looked at his watch. It was noon. Four more agonizing hours of waiting for the unimaginable to begin. He released his grip from the arms of the chair and got up from his seat

"You know I hate it when you smoke," he said to Narcissa, snatching the cigarette from her lips and putting it out. A house elf approached and Draco gave it the ashtray.

"Sirs and Madams…" squeaked the little elf, "Lunch is about to be put on, what would you like today?"

"I'm not hungry," Draco announced and Narcissa watched as he hurriedly exited the room.


	3. How not nice to meet you

Slumped in the seat of the carriage, traveling to the Malfoy's, too hopeless to move, Hermione's throat still burned from all her screaming the previous eve.

She didn't take Lucius's news too well.

After her bath she innocently loitered in the bathroom. She scrubbed the black dirt out from beneath her nails, trimmed her poor ends, and thoroughly brushed her teeth.

Oh, did it feel good to brush her teeth! She scrubbed them till they squeaked. Exposing them into the mirror, she finally saw the familiar smile of a dentist's daughter, straight and white. She had always had a beautiful mouth, but just like with everyone, some things you have to grow in to. They hadn't felt so slick in so long Hermione couldn't stop sliding her tongue across them.

Although she had a wonderfully minty aftertaste, she didn't at all mind spoiling her clean mouth when she finally exited the bathroom to find a chocolate cake fresh out of the room's tiny little oven.

Still overexcited for food, she immediately began wolfing it down the second the little house elf finished covering it with thick chocolate frosting. It was so moist and sweet; Hermione couldn't believe she had almost forgotten her love for chocolate.

She was licking her messy fingers when she realized that she was being quite stupid.

There she was, in an unknown motel room with Lucius Malfoy and a little strange elf eating chocolate cake.

Terribly distracted by much missed luxuries, Hermione cursed herself for not assessing the situation sooner. Something horrible was coming. She could feel it.

If Lucius Malfoy thought chocolate cake would coerce Hermione into not being as upset, he was very mistaken.

She kicked and screamed for twenty straight minutes the second Lucius's words entered her ears.

Marry Draco Malfoy? Voldemort's idea? NEVER! Of all the sick, twisted, evil schemes… she could never imagine such a disgusting thing. And what was the point?

After a bout of destroying the room full circle, she demanded to know why… in a way that was high in octave as well as decibel.

"Voldemort has his reasons," was all Lucius gave in his cold, stern response. He was more than agitated that Hermione had turned over the kitchen table, and thrown the chair so that the legs actually stuck into the drywall.

That was it? That was his answer? She had to marry Draco Malfoy because Voldemort said so? No. Never. There had to be a reason. Surely he-who-must-not-be-named had some sick evil inspiration, and she wanted to know what his plan was!

But it didn't matter what his plan was. Because his plan was NOT going to be carried out!

Hermione was determined to get out of there. Thus began the mad dash of kicking and clawing, along with its fair share of shrieking and hollering, in a desperate attempt to escape.

But, being wandless, she didn't even make within three feet of the door.

Lucius restrained her by the wrists and shoved her to the ground. Hermione had been petrified before, and she absolutely despised it. Which was why she was enraged when Lucius did it to her just then. Petrifaction was such a horrible state to be in, so desperately wanting to speak and move but being physically unable to was so infuriating a person could go mad.

"You WILL marry him, and you WILL enjoy it, or you will _act_ so much like you enjoy it that no one else will be able to tell the difference!" roared Lucius to a stiff, immobile Hermione on the floor.

Why should I!? Hermione _wanted_ to scream, but couldn't.

"Because if you don't," Lucius went on, unknowingly addressing her silent query, "I will make the rest of your so called pathetic life a living hell," he swore.

Although his statement did alarm her, she wished she could've moved her face and matched his expression of sternness, not wanting him to know she was afraid, wishing he knew he didn't intimidate her.

If Lucius wanted to say anything else to her, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Lucius looked down at her and smiled cruelly.

Hermione heard Lucius open the door and greet the person on the other side.

"About time!" said Lucius, "She tore apart the room, I had to petrify her."

"Sorry, got held up at Borgin and Burke, but I got the incantation for the charm," said a new male voice.

Borgin and Burke? thought Hermione, That's a shop in Knockturn Alley! That's where I must be… of course, where else could Lucius hide me? but who is at the door?

"Excellent," said Lucius, "come in then."

Hermione eavesdropped as the two continued to casually converse.

"Well honestly I'm surprised, why'd you put yourself up in such a shabby inn?" said the new voice.

"Well I couldn't very well walk into the Diagon Hilton dragging her behind me now could I?" answered Lucius in annoyance

Hermione heard two sets of footsteps approach her immobile form on the floor. The face of Lucius loomed over her, and now, the face of a man she had never seen before, but who had a striking resemblance to Gregory Goyle, came into view and grinned oafishly at her. Tucked under the man's arm was a large cardboard box and in his hand he gripped the handle to a small portable kennel.

The man then turned away and set his burden on the bed. Then Hermione could only guess by the sounds that he stepped over to the little kitchen and poured himself some Fire Whiskey

"Listen carefully, Granger," Lucius said firmly, still looming over her, "because I'm not going to repeat myself. You will become a respectable, functional member of wizarding high society. You will wed my son and play the role of a happy bride. You will do all this, or you shall receive negative reinforcement for your negative behavior."

"Any attempt to run away or communicate with anyone without permission gets you a nice long torture session with about ten death eaters. The Dark Lord has given me honorable privilege to personally hunt you down and end your life should you escape… which you won't be able to anyways, so unfortunately I'll doubt I'll have the pleasure because you'd be dumber beyond comprehension to even try…. Augustus, the incantation!" he called to the man.

The second man hastily pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket and Lucius snatched it from him. Pointing his wand at Hermione, he read the words on the paper, and flicked his wand at her. Hermione knew instantly it was some kind of powerful spell, but had never heard it before.

Folding it up and shoving it in his own pocket, he looked at her menacingly.

"I just bound you to me with a binding charm that lasts 24 hours. Should you venture farther than a radius of twenty feet from me without my verbal consent, you will find yourself incapacitated."

Hermione's eyes remained glossy and still, but inside she couldn't help but think how ironic Lucius' statement of her being dumb was. This pathetic charm only lasted 24 hours; surely gits like Augustus Goyle and Lucius Malfoy wouldn't remember to renew it every day at exactly the right time. She'd escape alright, and she'd get so far from Lucius only to turn around and laugh towards his direction. Kill her, bloody right!

Lucius, completely unaware of Hermione's thoughts, continued to explain to her, "But, just like negative reinforcement, you will also receive positive reinforcement for good behavior. For example, desisting from that bloody screaming when your petrifaction wears off earns you your next meal. …Should you manage not to disgust me, then I may spare a daily beating…." Lucius drawled on.

"Aw yes," he said, looking at the cardboard box on the bed, "One last thing, not being the insufferable mudblood bitch that you are gets you a few comforts from… home," and he leered at her with a pleasurable expression on his face.

If Hermione's face could move, it would have contorted into horror. Had they been to her house? But… her parents!

"Don't soil yourself," Lucius barked, "your daft muggle family is fine. Startled out of their wits, but fine. We merely allowed ourselves in and helped ourselves to a few of your things. Glad we managed to find the place… good to know where it is I would suspect…"

Hermione cringed at the thought of the likes of them terrorizing her family… in her own house no less! She was on fire with anger. How dare they… they will pay!

Lucius pulled some clothing out of the box to show Hermione… he displayed books from her bookshelf… compact disks… her paint set… among other things that could have only come from her bedroom. Hermione's heart panged, she hadn't seen those things in so long.

"Yes," Lucius said, dropping an item back in, "lots of precious little trinkets in here," his mouth formed an "o" as he mocked her with fake sentiment, pulling out a photo of Hermione with her mom and dad in front of their Christmas tree, "so adorable," Lucius cooed and then he hastily threw back into the box, "Oh my… and what's this? A snuggly?" Hermione's little seafoam green terrycloth bear emerged from the box, Lucius dangling it by its worn out flimsy leg.

Jerry! Hermione cried internally to her childhood friend. He threw that back in the box as well.

"If you'd like these things… you best be obedient and convincing!" Lucius warned. "Oh yeah…" he went on, "I almost forgot, if our trip back to the manor is smooth enough, you'll get a secret prize behind door number one!" and he abruptly shook the kennel. A squeal of frightened meows escaped from it.

Crookshanks! Hermione moaned deep within her mind.

The last time she saw Crookshanks was right before 6th year was to start… her mother and her were arguing about Hermione going to stay at Grimmauld Place. She was hastily packing her trunk, negating her mother's protests, telling her she didn't care how dangerous it was when she accidentally stepped on his tail. He darted under her bed to hide and was too cross with her to come out again before she officially left…

Hurt him and I'll tear your face off, she thought.

"Now," Lucius said, bending over and scooping up her rocklike form, "Get some sleep," and he tossed her on the bed. She landed stomach down, her face in a pillow. Being unable to see anything the two men might be doing, she then finally drifted off to sleep, exhausted from physical excursion and emotional distress…

~xxx~

……… _"Remember Hermione, nothing is more important than getting the papers Lucius is giving Karkaroff tonight" ………_

~xxx~

That morning, she was reluctantly quiet and cooperative. She had thought it through, and while it killed her to do so, she knew that at this point she was in no position to fight Lucius and would just have to wait until she was. She was silent when they left the creepy old motel. She followed her male captors around like a lost puppy while they ran a last few errands in the horrible Knockturn Alley.

The streets were filthy, dim and dismal, so Hermione kept her face turned up to the warm, bright sun. She estimated it to be early October, one of her favorite months, yet she wasn't enjoying any of it.

Had things been different, had Voldemort not started this terrible underground war, her and her Gryffindor class would've graduated normally, all together, that very previous June, and they would have celebrated all summer, late into the fall. Surely she would've had top honors, maybe even had been Head Girl, things she had looked forward to and worked for since that unforgettable September 1st, way back in year one.

But things definitely didn't turn out the way Hermione thought they would.

It had only been a few months of working with the Order alongside Harry and Ron as "unofficial members", traveling around the world performing secret missions, all the while being taught here and there by Professor Dumbledore himself, when he _personally_ deemed their education complete and bestowed them their diplomas one entire year early.

One year did feel a bit drastic at the time, since if they had been at Hogwarts, they'd just be going into to their 7th and final year, but Dumbledore mostly did it to stifle poor Mrs. Weasley, who was the only one dead against them joining the Order.

"There is a rule!" she'd always insist, against the idea of the three of them involved in such dangerous situations, "You must be of _legal wizarding age_ to be in the Order! They are _too young_!"

"Mrs. Weasley my dear," Dumbledore would always say, " 'Legal wizarding age' doesn't mean actual _age_, but merely one declared knowledgeable enough to safely and adequately perform magic after enough practical learning."

"But they haven't had _enough practical learning_!" Mrs. Weasley would plead, "Enough is enough. They should go back to Hogwarts for their 6th year! They're only sixteen!"

Dumbledore knew their ages well enough, and yes they were extremely young, but he was realistic enough to know that they would never go back to Hogwarts. Even if they were forced back, like they all had but been, they'd manage a way to escape. They weren't about to sit back and stay there given the state of things. They'd follow the Order to the ends of the Earth, no matter how hard the Order would try to get them to stop.

Albus Dumbledore was a strong wizard, but not even he could look Harry Potter into his startling green eyes and tell him he wasn't allowed to avenge the death of his entire family, especially after the horrible loss of his Godfather, his last living relative.

And if Harry Potter had his stubborn heart set on one thing, his loyal friends would surely follow. Dumbledore thought it hopeless; they would never give up, so he might as well take them under his wing and let them fight where he could keep an eye on them. They were obviously willing enough, and the most important characteristic of an Order member was loyalty. In fact, Dumbledore always said it was the only requirement one needed in order to be a member. Besides, if anyone had a right to be in on it, it was Harry Potter.

"Well then my dearest Mrs. Weasley," Dumbledore said one day as the September 1st of 6th year loomed so very near, finally coming up with an indisputable answer for her, "I am more than qualified to give them credits, I shall tutor them myself."

There was nothing poor Mrs. Weasley could have done then. Instead of going back to Hogwarts in the fall, Harry, Ron and Hermione spent the next few months in anonymous hotel rooms and train stations listening to Dumbledore's improvised lectures on history, theory and technique as the Order moved about the world in secret, searching and gathering information. He even had McGonagall owl them official copies of the N.E.W.T.S in which all three of them scored exceptionally high.

For in reality, they had learned more about magical ways and applications than they ever could have at Hogwarts, for they _needed_ to know it in order to survive, and they had the best teachers they could've possibly had, Order members themselves.

If only Hermione had a wand right then with her in Knockturn Alley… or even some potions supplies. With so many different tactics she was capable of, one way or another she could get Lucius to call off the charm and she could run away and return to the Order.

But then she remembered… they'd instantly go to her house…. to her family… She couldn't have that! There was nothing she could do then. She'd have to behave…

'For now anyway,' she thought to herself.

With nothing to yell at her for, Lucius and Augustus said very little to her. Her stomach being empty again and becoming overjoyed by the developing pattern of being fed regularly, Hermione managed to eat a hearty breakfast of pancakes, sausages, grits and poached eggs, despite the less than admirable conditions of the shabby dark pub they stopped at. Food it seemed, miraculously cheered her up, and it's not like she didn't need to put on the weight.

But actually, the progress of her recovery was quite remarkable. One would scarcely believe she was the same girl as the day before. After a bath, sleep in a real bed and a few good meals, her cheeks had regained their rosy color and her eyes were no longer sunken. Her hair, drying freely without the weight of dirt and grease, was now back to a state of natural elongated curls, subtly bouncing around her clean face. That in combination with her new clothes it was impossible to tell she had just been released from a hellish prison only the day before. She was only, for the time being, unfortunately skinny.

She felt better to say the least, both being able to think clearly despite the horrible circumstances, and feeling physically invigorated having been hydrated, cleaned, rested and most lovely of all, nourished! She wondered how long it would be before she regained her strong, sculpted, physique she had developed while working with the Order, right before the horrible night she was captured.

She estimated the binding charm on her would need renewing by eight o'clock that evening, and she was very interested to see if they remembered. Until then, she would not fight them.

It ate her up inside though, sitting placidly in the carriage as they neared nearer and nearer to Malfoy Manor, giving in to Lucius Malfoy's will. How she wished she could be making his life hell right then, since after all he didn't seem to care that he was doing that to her. But she dealt with it, and prayed desperately that she would have patience and not ruin her chances of escape.

Draco Malfoy however, wasn't even bothering with patience.

~xxx~

"It's almost 4:32! They're half an hour late!" Darco declared angrily to no one in particular.

Narcissa, a nervous wreck herself, barley managed waiting the four hours alone since her son had stormed off early that morning, as if the episode with the Parkinson daughter wasn't bad enough! He was still cross with her for making him wait alongside her in the parlor just off of the foyer just as four neared.

Little did she know that Draco had spent his time hiding from her and everyone else by playing a muggle sport called basketball in one of the smaller, practically forgotten ballrooms of the south wing.

His father would shit rocks if he knew, but Draco had a basketball hoop that attached to the back of the door. Since his parents hardly ventured further than the north wing of their entire house, Draco felt pretty secure there. In fact, the room got so little use of entertaining guests that Draco had all kinds of exercise equipment in there, but basketball especially calmed him. And since the 'little' ballroom was big enough to house a pool, there was plenty of room for him to let off some steam, the marble floor making quite an alright court.

Draco had discovered the pastime in a shop dedicated to muggle culture in Diagon Alley before his 4th year. His father also would have flogged him senseless if he had known Draco even stepped a toe into the place, but good thing for Draco, Lucius didn't know a lot of things. The truth is… he was always a little curious about Muggles.

Despite his few hours of clear head and released aggression, all of the stress of the situation came rushing back the minute a house elf called for him, saying his mother requested his presence for the much awaited arrival.

So there he sat, in a side room with his mother, more uncomfortable than ever, especially since he could here the faint approach of his family's carriage.

Lucius entered first, Augustus soon after, with Hermione by the shoulder. Climbing the intimidating stone steps to the huge looming doors adorned with a giant golden 'M' caused every muscle in Hermione's body to tighten. She was led through the doors to step into a magnificent foyer.

The ceiling vaulted to unreachable heights, a massive chandelier with countless sparkling crystals dangled from way up there. But the most outrageous spectacle was the fountain in the middle of the room, which trickled sparkling clear water into the diamond mounting. Just beyond the fountain were the two stoops of two separate staircases that came majestically together. Looking up to the tops of them, Hermione could see they led off into different directions. The thing that caught Hermione's eye the most though, was Draco when he finally appeared.

Both Hermione and Draco had built up the horrible moment of seeing each other's putrid faces so much in their minds. They imagined sneers, insults and outbursts of violence… but seeing the person you're being forced to marry for the first time in over two entire years is never what one expects.

He and Narcissa had come out of a side room, and Hermione was quite surprised at how tall and broad he was. Did he always look so mature? Had Hermione forgotten? She was fairly disappointed he wasn't the scrawny yet puff-chested, pompous, pale, sneering little rat her memory projected, but something rather a lot more intimidating. In front of her was not the sniveling little punk 5th year she last saw him as, but a young _man_.

Her eyes then met his face. His lips were slightly pressed together but he otherwise appeared emotionless, save for his piercing stormy blue eyes, which looked full of seriousness.

"Draco," she greeted softly, amazed a voice came out of her shocked face, curtseying as instructed by Lucius, her curls bouncing softly as she stood back upright.

"Hermione," Draco greeted back, also instructed, "Welcome to our home," he forced himself to say. Hermione managed a weak small smile.

It was the smile that finally did him in. Although he was supposed to, he could no longer act like he wasn't terribly uncomfortable and he averted his eyes away from her as to not give himself away.

He didn't recall her this way. He remembered little nerdy girl Hermione, not an otherwise pleasant looking young lady. The 15-year-old girl he once knew had certainly grown into herself, and she seemed to glow, which struck Draco as odd since he knew she was just released from Voldemort. It was just so utterly strange that she would be in his entryway under these circumstances.

There they were, practically adults to say the least, yet still under strict control, like when a mother and father force their little children to be playmates while they go off to some dull cocktail with the other parents.

The awkward silence that followed was finally broken by Narcissa.

"Well Lucius, I suppose Bubsy should show the… uh, girl her room?" she said looking at Lucius and only Lucius, obviously avoiding direct contact with Hermione. Perhaps she thought if she never interacted with her then she wasn't really there.

Hermione scoffed with mirth as quietly as she could. She didn't mind at all that she was to be ignored; in fact she wanted nothing to do with her in return. Why, if only she had a wand, how quickly she could take them all down. If only they knew that she had spent that last year in the deepest darkest forests, taking on Warlocks, Werewolves and other ghastly beasts with Harry, Ron and the rest of the Order as they searched for He-…

"Miss…" said a high child-like voice, "miss, you can follow me please."

Hermione looked up at Lucius, whom she had stayed near all day.

"I'll allow it," he said clearly, "until supper at 7 o'clock. Don't be late. Oh, and look nice," he added, looking more at Bubsy than Hermione, "we're having a guest."


	4. Hate to eat and run

A/N: Like it? Hate it? Review it!

… … …

Hermione was overcome with another weird sensation of delusion and disbelief. She was walking down a long corridor of what the house-elf told her was the west wing. The beauty of the house disgusted her but at the same time she couldn't help but admire… well, the beauty of it.

She was outraged though, when to her left came windows from which she could see a charmingly landscaped lot… upon closer inspection she discovered that the lot ended with another side of the house.

"What's that?" asked Hermione to the elf, who she didn't dislike simply because it resided with Malfoys, it was forced to after all.

"That's the east wing," she squeaked.

Hermione then realized that the lot was squared off by two more sections of the house. They had a courtyard right in the middle of their mansion. Hermione scoffed as she continued walking past it, like the likes of Draco could ever truly appreciate the unique and stunning renaissance architecture of such…

"This way miss…,"said the house-elf as she led her around the corner, leaving Hermione no longer able to see the courtyard from the windows.

The house was enormous and it felt as though they had been walking forever and they weren't even there yet. Hermione continued to think bitterly about the courtyard, something she had always imagined in her dream house. Malfoy Manor now suddenly reminded her of that government building in the states, what was that called again? It was all connected and shaped like a...Pentagon. Hermione laughed at her brief moment of stupidity.

The American muggle leader, the president, she recalled, had taken them there as a display of hospitality, but only before he begrudgingly told Dumbledore that his…FBI was it? Or maybe… CIA? Whatever the secret organization it was they had over there, they had no reason to believe that Voldemort was in America. 'Except Malfoy Manor only has four connecting wings, instead of five,' thought Hermione absent mindedly.

Finally the little elf paused in front of one of the numerous doors that were along the hall.

"Here is your room," she said, "please make yourself at home."

"Yeah right," Hermione muttered as the elf opened the door for her.

Although the room's luxury was amazing, the first thing Hermione looked for was a clock.

It's six o'clock," she thought, 'One hour till supper…mmm, food…and two hours till the charm should wear off…"

Suddenly her surroundings dawned on her and her mouth dropped. She felt like she was in a palace…a room for a princess. She was overwhelmed by its comfort, having stayed in a tiny cement cell for nine months.

The bed was huge and billowing with a handsome canopy set against the left wall. On the right wall here was a beautiful gold vanity table, and in the middle of the room was a lovely floral rug, with breathtaking paintings along the walls and a glass doorway leading out to a balcony on the wall farthest from the door. Even the little things like light fixtures and knobs on the armoire were extravagant. Hermione couldn't help but notice the careful and unique craftsmanship around the doorways, which were carved with Celtic wizard designs. Wondering where they led to Hermione opened the one at the end of the left wall, just past the bed.

She discovered a bathroom adorned in white marble and gold. Hermione didn't even realize she was grinning when she saw the huge bathtub that was aligned with mirrors.

Suddenly she snapped out of it. She'd never enjoy such a tub, or anything in this room. She was still determined to escape that very night, and her thoughts or plans never went any further than that, because she was so positive it would work out. She would get out of that house, get her family and run, it was only fair after what she had been through. No way could she handle marrying Draco Malfoy. How could fate hand her such a destiny she didn't deserve? No, she wouldn't have to live here. A bit tragic yes, because it was beautiful, but it was Malfoy Manor and everything was tainted.

Still, she could hardly believe they lived in such luxury. It just wasn't fair that such horrible people should have such a nice mansion. She sighed and threw herself back onto the bed.

"Miss, miss," said the house elf suddenly, "forgive me miss but it is time for you to get ready for the supper miss."

Hermione looked over at her peculiarly as the house elf opened another door exposing a gigantic walk in closet.

"Master has specifically requested this miss," said the elf, barely able to hold the ensemble Lucius had in mind.

… … …

Draco was splashing cold water on his face. Then he looked at his reflection from his bathroom mirror and sighed. He was very nervous for dinner, dreading it even and was still very frazzled from seeing Hermione.

He would have never guessed that she would look so… presentable, he decided was the right word, after nine entire months in Voldemort's prison. Suddenly he shuddered; he hated the thought of such a place. How had she not gone insane?

Then he agreed with himself that there was no use in pretending the girl didn't have her wits about her. Everyone knew she's the cleverest girl in Hogwarts. Well… was the cleverest girl in Hogwarts, she didn't return for 6th year after all.

Harry and Ron not returning didn't surprise Draco at all after what happened in the department of mysteries. Those two fools were so eager to go meddle where they didn't belong, surely they thought their holy crusade against the dark side was more important than school.

But Hermione not returning either had taken him a bit back. He always thought she was so obsessed with education. And what is more than that, joining Harry and Ron in their self-righteous cause was… well, you'd have to be quite brave. Although he always thought of her as a loudmouth know-it-all, he still perceived her as somewhat meek, far too timid to go _hunting_ after _Death Eaters_ anyway. Either she was not nearly as smart as he thought she was, or she had much more courage then he dared give her credit for, because no one would have guessed in a million years that she of all people would drop out of school.

Oh well, it's not like a lot of them didn't; it was such a trying year at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Draco himself only lasted till Christmas. Although they never actually proved his father was there that famous night in the department of mysteries, everyone knew that he was.

Lucius couldn't stand the thought of a Ravenclaw thinking they were superior to his son after Draco had told him that now more than ever people looked at him like he was a petty criminal. So Lucius decided to pull Draco out, as did many other fathers of Slytherins, and got him a private tutor.

Lucius thought it a pity too, since Dumbledore wasn't the full time headmaster, he was eager to see how the school would evolve. But much to Lucius's dismay, it filled with the protection of muggle-loving Aurors and Fudge was constantly poking his fat head in. Not to mention McGonagall being named replacement headmistress for the year, who he suspected of having constant communication with Dumbledore anyway. So he was, as it were, still practically running the school anyway.

Draco recalled how disappointed he was when he had to leave Hogwarts. Although everyone hated him more than ever, he still found it cozier than his actual home.

And now, the very privacy of his own south wing was jeopardized by that silly mudblood in the next room!

Aggravated all over again, he hastily slicked his hair back and grimaced at himself in the mirror. He hated wearing his hair that way, but Lucius insisted that it was proper Death Eater etiquette, especially in front of_ him_. He quickly slipped into his finest robes, adjusted the collar and then made his way to the dining hall.

… … …

Dismal silence choked the air in the dining hall except for the steady clicking of the grandfather clock.

Finally, Bubsy opened the door for her and Hermione felt instantly uncomfortable as everyone's eyes turned.

Draco found himself looking, blinking rapidly, and then looking once again just to be sure.

Hermione looked very sophisticated and alluring. Lucius smiled at his triumph, in his own mind he thought his hard work had successfully passed her off as attractive. It would be hard enough for everyone to believe Draco was marrying a muggle in the first place, but an ugly muggle? No one would believe he of all people would marry _anyone_ ugly.

The dress he had picked out for her was black, v-necked and fell scantly around her knees. A sheer black material adorned the collar and hem of the skirt, adding to the femininity.

Lucius was also pleased that she had done her hair without him even asking. She had parted it down the side and clipped the full part back to her ear, a renegade tendril falling gently in her face. With her hair back, her long slender neck was visible as well as her collarbone and the delicate slope of her shoulders. She had on earrings and black stilettos and subtle gloss on her lips.

"Please sit," spoke Lucius.

Draco got up immediately and drew out a chair for her. At first she looked at him like he was crazy and then remembered, 'Oh yes,' she thought, 'my adoring husband-to-be.' She smiled slightly and sat down, amused by his actions and recalling the cloak she had strategically placed by the front door just down the hallway from the dining room. Soon she'd be kicking off those silly heels and hopping the gate, until then she was thinking of what a smooth and sweet gesture Draco had managed to pull off, if only it had been anyone but him, what a flattering and gentlemanly thing to do…

Draco watched her as she slid into the seat, calm and collected. He was surprised she had actually agreed to dress up for dinner, and since she didn't look nearly as miserable as she pretended not to be before, a stranger just walking in would think she belonged at that table. Draco was still in awe that it was even her, staring at her exposed skin and golden brown hair without even realizing it.

Hermione noticed Narcissa still hadn't looked at her, but was staring down at her plate. This caused Hermione to smile. Then she noticed Augustus was also at the table, but unlike Narcissa, he wouldn't stop looking at her. Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

Suddenly there was a chime. Lucius grinned smugly and got up from the table. No one said a word while he was gone and Hermione was almost positive she felt Draco hold his breath. When footsteps reproached and the doorknob began to turn everyone started to rise, Hermione was confused, but followed anyway.

Lucius came in first. "Master has arrived," as he gestured with his arm and bowing his head.

Everyone else bowed their head as well. Although confused, Hermione did the same.

But even with her head down, she still sensed an overwhelming presence enter the room. An eerie, cold presence, different from a Dementor, this feeling had no dream quality to it. No, it was very real and the feeling of badness was rock solid. She peered over to Draco and he finally rose up his head. She slowly did the same, but suddenly not wanting to look.

"Welcome to our dinner your graciousness," Narcissa finally spoke, "We're so honored to have you. We know it is hard for you to venture to far from safe haven. We are humbled that you would make the trip to our meager dwelling"

"Narcissa you are too much," said a chilling voice, "But it is not I who is the guest of honor. Surely I wouldn't miss the dinner for the world."

Feeling pulled, forced even, like her cheek was being sucked by the air by an invisible monster, Hermione finally looked over to the doorway. A tall, thin man stood cloaked in deep thick black was looking at her. He slowly pulled back his hood, revealing his ghostly complexion and twisted head. His skin was scaly and gray, looking as though it would be cold and rough to the touch. His mouth was thin and elongated, and he had an almost completely nostril-less nose. Even his eyes were slit and rested in snake-like sockets. His beady gaze bore into Hermione and he… Hermione couldn't be too sure, seemed to smile at her.

She turned her eyes downcast to her plate and shook with terror, her mouth gasped in noiseless disbelief and her blood ran ice cold.

She was about to politely dine with the man she and her entourage had scoured the globe for for a year and a half. The guest Lucius had so proudly boasted of was Voldemort himself.

Graciously, he offered him a seat at the end of the table. As he moved from the entryway a short fat greasy man entered in behind him. Lucius seemed to feel no need to offer him a seat and he situated himself stilly into the corner.

Hermione leered at new man. Wormtail was there as well. This couldn't be! Her blood boiled with anger and rage. How badly she wished she had a wand! She remained stiff in her seat, tensing up her muscles was the only thing she could do to contain herself and not jump up and attack them.

Lucius took his seat excitedly at the other end of the table, and for the first time, Hermione sensed that Draco was almost as tense as she.

"I offer you the best of my house," Lucius declared and food magically appeared on the table. "It's Fillet of Sole Normandie and freshly steamed Avalon Sauté' mushrooms with a bottle of nicely aged red wine."

Voldemort said nothing in return and Wormtail appeared at his side. He removed his own fork from his pocket and took a bite of the fish. Voldemort watched him chew and swallow. Then Wormtail sampled a mushroom and took a sip of the wine. Satisfied when he didn't fall down dead Voldemort gestured him away. Then he picked up his cloth napkin and began wiping the brim of his goblet.

Lucius watched the whole routine with a stony expression but said nothing. When Voldemort finally took a bit of fish on his fork and nibbled at it and Lucius seemed to finally relax. Everyone else took it as a go-ahead and began to eat as well.

Startled by sudden movements, Hermione also picked up her fork, but by no surprise she had no appetite, being in the same room as He-who-must-not-be-named had made her sick to her stomach. She poked and nibbled at her fish more feebly than Voldemort.

"So my Lord," spoke Lucius again, "if I may ask, what news of progress."

"Well," he said in a drawling tone, "A few more at the ministry have fallen to a price, and are now under the influence of our side…"

Hermione could scarcely believe the situation let alone her ears as the two continued to talk, Goyle even participating a bit. Were they daft to talk so freely of the war right in front of her? Weren't they worried she would give information back to her side? Sure, they didn't name names of who at the ministry had become traitor, but before the light side didn't have enough evidence to even say they suspected such corruption was going on from the inside. But lately, such things had become common, yet unspoken knowledge.

Ever since Voldemort risked a public appearance and tried to seize the prophecy, Fudge could no longer deny his return. An underground war had begun and all of the wizarding world was turned upside down. The old death eating families were surely trying to make contact, to reassure the Dark Lord of their unfaltering loyalty in order to avoid his wrath. But still, some families were still more discrete than others.

Though everyone tried to go about their usual lives, since all out war had not been declared, people didn't know who to trust anymore. Random attacks on muggles began to reoccur for the first time in nearly 20 years. Sadly, even some of those in the Ministry of Magic had chosen the dark side but Fudge was as good as blind as to who they were.

"…Did the Nott's survive the raid on their house alright?" Hermione heard Augustus ask as they continued to talk of politics and illegal activities right in front of her.

"Oh yes, yes," Lucius was saying, "They managed to hide a lot of their things. Nothing was found… well nothing that they couldn't pay the ministry inspectors to ignore anyways…"

People had been disappearing, arrested for questioning, sent to jail, or randomly released. Some were hiding from officials all together, either because they really were guilty or could not otherwise prove their innocence. Other's fell to blackmail or bribery from persons unknown. Other's grouped together and lashed out at the ministry for not having a better knowledge of what was going on.

The Daily Prophet couldn't even be trusted any longer, as it was suspected that some of the publishers and writers were traitors. Articles naming death eaters couldn't be believed because it was easily a framing, and the declaration of innocence could be just as faulty.

"Well that damned Quibbler though…" Hermione tuned in to hear Lucius complain, "some how caught wind of the ministry's plan to investigate the Abbotts but ever since the article was published no one seems to know where they are! Gave them a warning to hide, it did…"

Hermione smirked. It had been her who had recruited the Lovegoods into the Order, it was one of her first missions. While tolerating Voldemort's presence may be a defeat against her, remembering that the Quibbler was a trustable source was a victory for her side was temporarily retributive

But dark or light magic, wizarding families locked themselves up in their houses, having little to no contact with anyone out of fear of attack or being exposed as a death eater. Everyone was confused and afraid.

"…And, I want it to be known," Hermione heard Voldemort go on to say in his dinner conversation with Lucius, "that anyone who can bring me James Finch-Fletchley, dead or alive, shall receive a reward of 5,000 galleons."

"Is that so?" asked Lucius in a mixture of shock and intrigue.

"It is very so," said Voldemort, "The imbecile thought he could penetrate my inner circle by pretending to be truly enlightened by our beliefs, came up with some codswallop story about hating Harry Potter since his son, Justin, has had problems with him. In reality Justin is acquainted with him. He most definitely will pay for this…"

Hermione groaned inwardly, 'Why would the ministry send someone as obvious as James Finch-Fletchley in as a spy?' she thought, disappointed in their ineptness, '…hasn't Fudge learned anything! He should always heed Dumbledore...'

Dumbledore, for one, had pleaded with Fudge unrelentingly, warning him that disbanded wizards were the worse thing that could happen. He begged him to try and reunite the masses before it was too late, and everyone turned against everyone. Meanwhile he demanded Fudge keep him posted on developments from investigations, as he would personally try to find Voldemort.

Hermione sat silently at the table soaking everything up like a sponge. There was no way they had forgotten she was there. With her being so out of place how could they? Did they want her to report this back to the ministry? Was it a trick? There was definitely something she was missing.

Perhaps they were just that confident she would never again speak to the Order. Or the Ministry. Or anyone for that matter. It could only mean they assumed she'd never be able to blurt out that she was a prisoner to a passing stranger and that they must send for her help. They must honestly believe they have the means to contain and silence her for good. Hermione did not want to admit to herself that their surety frightened her.

Finally, the adults plates ran out of food save for Voldemort's. His along with Hermione's and Draco's plates, who apparently had no appetite either, remained full of food but Lucius appeared not to have noticed as he called for an elf. He told it to clear the plates and bring in another bottle of wine.

"This is the finest in our collection," he boasted as it was poured in everyone's glass, although Voldemort appeared not to care. Ignoring it, Lucius continued, "A toast!" he declared, "to the wedding."

Hermione looked awkwardly over at Draco as she raised her glass in dull obedience and took a small sip. Narcissa across the table had already downed hers and was gesturing for more. It appeared the attention of all now rested on Draco and Hermione, and apparently Narcissa wanted alcohol assistance if she was to finally acknowledge Hermione's existence.

"Yes," Voldemort said icily, "The wedding. The muggle, why she looks…"

"Perfect," Lucius interrupted, "The better we can get her to look the better all around…just as we discussed."

Voldemort again nodded softly, looking over at Hermione. Hermione stared intently at the table, grinding her teeth and clenching her wine glass so hard it was amazing it didn't shatter.

"As you can see she's filled out that dress quite nicely, but I think she's still a bit on the thin side," Lucius added.

Hermione felt a wave of nausea as they spoke of her like she was some show dog.

"Yes, I suppose you're right Lucius," he said dryly, "Looks as though she needs a little work on her social skills as well," he added, "The little thing hasn't said a word… Everyone knows pure witches love their chitchat."

Lucius's face grew hot and he looked extremely flustered. "Surely you're right my Lord. Next time I'll see to it that she is more polite."

"Well there's still plenty of time till the engagement is officially announced, no need to get yourself in knots," said Voldemort almost mockingly.

To this Lucius didn't know what to say but it didn't matter, "Now Lucius, a word in private," Voldemort directed. With that Lucius and he got up and went out a separate door from which they all had originally entered, Wormtail following close behind.

It stroke Hermione as odd that they spoke so freely before, yet now felt the need to not be heard.

"Well that went well," said Augustus, after Lucius led Voldemort out of the room, Wormtail waggling behind them.

"To say the least," Narcissa responded, drinking another glass of wine.

"Mother, may I please be excused?" asked Draco softly.

"No Draco," said Narcissa, "Not till your Father returns."

Draco looked bitter and slunk back into his chair as Augustus continued to talk to Narcissa.

Hermione's eyes darted to the grandfather clock. 8:27. Her heart gave a funny jolt. She peered over at Draco who was staring sullenly into his wine glass. Augustus seemed interested enough in his one way conversation and Narcissa was too tipsy to be much of a blockade.

Startled, Draco nearly fell back out of his seat as Hermione's chair fell to the ground, knocked over due to her abrupt jump out of it. He managed to look up as the flare of her skirt disappeared out the dining room door.

"Lucius!" screamed Narcissa as Draco took off after her.

She was fast, and honestly, Draco wasn't too keen on chasing her. But he knew what would happen if he didn't.

Running past to scattered stilettos in his foyer, he burst out of his front door into the cool night air. Dashing down the steps, he saw her image disappear into the shadows the trees along the driveway cast with a cloak in her hand flailing behind her. He followed her into the darkness and saw her emerge back into the moonlight at the gate. He gasped at the ease in which she managed to throw the cloak over the jagged top of the gate to lessen the chance of being injured and hoist herself up. Within seconds she was swinging her legs with swift proficient agility over the other side of the tall iron entrance; he was fourteen before he had mastered sneaking out his house.

Just as she dropped to her feet on the other side, Lucius apparated near her, now present to watch her fall to her knees and sputter. She was immobile once again. She collapsed to the ground choking because she couldn't breathe, trembling from what appeared to be severe pain. She couldn't see, hear, or speak. She couldn't move, just feel hot searing pain course through her body.

Lucius smirked and pulled her back up by her hair. A gurgle replaced what would've been a shriek of pain. He placed one hand on a pedestal near the gate and thought the password to the telepathic security system. The gate began to open and he dragged her back into the grounds. Instantly the pain went away, but the strain and exhaustion remained.

"It's unfortunate for you the Dark Lord had left before your little stunt, you stupid mudblood!" he spat as Hermione gasped for air, able to breathe again. "He would tell me not to do _this…!_" He balled up his fist.

Hermione closed her eyes tightly and tried to prepare herself for the blow. But nothing came.

"Lucky mudblood," he growled most angrily, as he lowered his hand with what appeared to be a great exercise in self-control, "…can't bloody have you with any black eyes," he finally muttered through a clenched jaw.

Hermione currently hought nothing of this remark however, because she was utterly baffled by her foiled attempt to escape, her heart drowning in the swells of disappointment, "The dress…" she panted desperately, "…is charmed?"

"Yes," said Lucius menacingly, "_It is_!" He then reached back into his pocket and pulled out a familiar piece of paper, only this time he read something slightly different than the day before and not only flicked his wand at Hermione, but at Draco, who had stood by silently watching the whole spectacle, as well, causing him to flinch.

"Now, listen closely you little freak," Lucius went on, "you're now bound to Draco for…for as long as necessary. Unless you want another taste of what you just sampled, I suggest you stay on the grounds or as close as Draco otherwise declares out loud. And hear you me Granger, no one will pull you back into the boundaries next time. Now, Draco, take this filth out of my sight."


	5. A most random act of kindness

"That was really, _really_ stupid you know, trying to get away like that."

Hermione's awkward thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Draco actually speaking to her, the first noise either of them had made since they had started their long grim walk from the gate to her room. They traveled together; Draco's all too familiar aura of sternness and mystery about him.

"Really? That's odd, getting away sounded like a great idea at the time," Hermione said back without so much as looking at him.

Draco, who would've laughed at the witty repertoire if it had been from anybody but her, was actually quite stunned that she even responded. Although the hatred for him in her voice was quite clear, he had assumed that she would be too afraid of him to speak, which was obviously not the case.

"Whatever," he scoffed angrily after his surprise had subsided, "It's just dumb to go making this worse for you than it needs to be."

"Trust me Malfoy," she quipped as they turned the corner to the south wing, "Nothing could be worse than this."

Hermione found her statement to be completely true, because as they neared 'her' room a horrible sinking feeling consumed her stomach as she realized she be staying the night, and possibly many nights, in Malfoy Manor, for as of right then she had no other plans of escape and feared it would take her awhile to configure her assets and figure out how to get around Draco's now seemingly flawless binding charm. But Draco found her to be exaggerating dramatically simply for the sake of being an extra large pain in the ass.

"Oh right," he sauced back, "I suppose Voldemort's dungeon was much better."

"Better than what? Marrying you?" she asked, furrowing her brow.

"Yes," said Draco as they reached her door.

Hermione scowled as she opened the door and then spoke very firmly, fearlessly looking him in the eyes for the first time "Just for the record Malfoy, I'd pick dying slowly in a cold dark dungeon with my own name and dignity over a long life as a Malfoy any day!" and she slammed the door in his face.

"Fucking ingrate!" he yelled at the door and then furiously stormed away.

… … …

_ "We can haff more wine upstairs," said the snaggle-toothed teenager Hermione was supposed to be deceiving, raising his unibrow up and down, totally destroying the chivalrous and charming image she had perceived all Russian regional boys to obtain because of Viktor Krum. _

_This was no gentleman she was dealing with. This was the rich and spoiled son of very powerful, and very dangerous, man._

_He grabbed her by the wrist urging, practically expecting, her to follow him. _

_ Hermione giggled in tune with her wanna-be debutante character, thinking quickly, "Oh gee," she smiled shyly and let her hair flip, "Gee, I don't know Ivan, I mean…"_

_ "Vot is it?" he asked impatiently._

_ She was no longer teasing him. She really didn't want to go upstairs, that wasn't part of the plan, "…I've just had so much wine as it is, and it's getting quite late…"_

_ Where was Harry to occlument to her? Should she go upstairs and leave the searching to him? Or just stupefy Ivan now and look for the documents herself?_

_ "There is no need for any more games Natasha," he jeered, "Ve both know you vant to come upstairs. Now come vith me" he said, like he was a rockstar and she was some nameless groupie, pulling her once again._

_ Hermione reacted by pulling back without realizing and he looked at her angrily._

_ "Hehe," she recovered, smiling coyly… But underneath that convincingly flirting smile was panic. Harry had ventured off too far to send her instructions mentally… he had never done that before. He was supposed to be backing her up. What was she supposed to do now?_

_ "I can't wait till we get upstairs," she said finally._

_ "Excuse me?" asked Ivan, but Hermione had already pushed him back down onto the sofa, then sat over him with one knee in between his, pulling his head firmly back looking at him sultrily. Ivan's ugly face grinned excitedly. Although smooth and controlling on the outside, inwardly Hermione was desperately wondering if Harry had abandoned his post to go after her…_

… … …

"BLOODY HELL!" groaned Draco out loud, banging his head against his headboard, "she's been at it for THREE hours now!"

Enough was enough. He tossed off his blankets and swung out of bed, walked to the far wall of his room and angrily banged on the door. The sobbing that was once heard abruptly stopped but Draco turned the knob and barged in anyway.

Hermione sat against the wall across from the door he had just opened. She had a cat in her lap and evidence of tear streams on her red shocked face. A tall, broad white haired person had just unexpectedly entered. It didn't dawn on him in his sleepiness that he was merely in his red and gray plaid pajama pants, leaving his flat stomach and chest exposed, but even after he realized it he just shrugged it off.

Draco saw she was sitting by a gift bag. Apparently Lucius had some 'good behavior rewards' sent to her room before her little escape stunt, most likely during dinner he assumed, and had forgotten to take them back.

Hermione was hastily trying to wipe away any evidence of crying when Draco finally spoke.

"People are trying to sleep" he said less angrily than he had planned to after an awkward moment of looking at her. It was obvious she was embarrassed having been caught crying, and for a moment there he felt the need to go easy on her.

But then he remembered that it was Granger and that he didn't care. It was 2 a.m. and she was the reason he was still awake.

"I didn't know our rooms were connected," was all she could think to say.

"Well they are!" Draco yelled, "and I can hear everything!"

Hermione said nothing to this, but appeared to swallow a sob and began to look more angry than sad.

What right did he have to be so brash when she didn't even know she was keeping him up? She thought no one could hear her cry… 'Oh god,' she thought, when it fully sunk in he could hear her all along, 'how humiliating, looking like a weak baby in front of Malfoy by crying…' But only the word 'crying' reminded her why she was so upset in the first place, and her eyes began to water all over again.

Draco cursed himself and was very uncomfortable as Hermione's lip began to quiver regardless of how hard she fought it. It finally dawned on Draco that the stress she must be under was tearing her apart emotionally.

But then again what did he care? She better not go off again with the sobbing and the wailing because he was fucking tired.

"Why aren't you in bed?" he asked, raising his arm up to tousle his hair in aggravated annoyance, his expression crabby.

"Can't sleep," Hermione said after stifling another hiccup, 'because of my bloody nightmares,' she wanted to add, but didn't.

"You haven't even tried," Draco said irritated, looking at the untouched bed, "You don't even have nightclothes on."

Hermione didn't feel the need to respond. Draco wasn't her mother.

Draco stepped a bit further into her room, immediately Hermione responded by clutching Crookshanks to her and tried to cover her belongings with her body, as if to guard them.

"I'm not going to take back your stuff," Draco snapped, rolling his eyes. What would he want with stupid muggle trinkets? "I just want to see what's keeping you from going to bed."

Hermione uncoiled a bit, exposing a photo of her family, anticipating Draco to say something snide or mean. But he didn't make fun of her, instead he just looked at it blankly.

"Go to bed now ok?" he pretended to ask but really demanded, turning around to return to his room.

"Wait!" Hermione called suddenly.

Draco turned around to look at her with an expression of agitated confusion.

'Merlin Hermione,' she thought to herself, 'He's already seen you cry, might as well let him see you beg.'

"My parents," she pleaded, letting the tears flow freely now, hoping they would subconsciously work persuasion on Draco, "They haven't heard from me in almost ten months… and with your father and Goyle going to my house…"

"No." Draco interrupted, guessing where this was going.

"Please!" she begged, earnestly boring into him with her big wet eyes, "They don't even know if I'm alive!"

Draco stood silently in the doorway that connected their rooms for a moment as her shoulders rose up and down the rhythm of her soft cries.

He groaned angrily, thinking of the happy family in the picture and how horrible his father must have been to them when they broke in and stole Hermione's things. He wondered what her mom and dad must have been thinking, even worse, what they were still thinking. "You better shut up and go to bed if I let you do this" he threatened.

"I will, I swear," Hermione said frantically.

He sighed, "Follow me then," and he hastily exited out of her door.

Hermione had to walk briskly to keep up with his long quick strides as he led the way down the dark quiet hall. Finally he made his way to a door on the left side, clanking the doorknob as he pulled the door open in a fit of creaks.

Hermione's shoulders tensed up, and she looked frightened, "Won't someone hear us?" she asked looking back down the hall.

Draco furrowed his brow and shook his head, "No one can hear anything from down here," referring to the seclusion of the wing.

The door he opened was really a staircase and as Hermione climbed up it behind him she felt it getting cooler. Upon reaching the landing she discovered they were in a miniature owlery, roofed like Hogwart's, but as cold as any attic.

Draco opened some shudders and Hermione could tell by the layout of the house that through the window one had a view of the courtyard. Draco whistled softly. He readied his arm as his brawny great horned owl came flying in, landing on the offered perch.

Hermione couldn't help but notice the large size of it, and then realized why as Draco immediately gave it a treat, then petted it softly, making it coo.

"That's a beautiful owl," Hermione said softly.

"This owl is the most respectable living creature in this house," Draco responded. And then, as if the awkwardness of his comment being said out loud had just dawned on him as it did Hermione, he hastily added, "Now, write only what I tell you!"

Hermione went to a wooden desk and chair, picking up one of the quills there and began to write as Draco dictated, "Mum and Dad, I can not write much, just that I am alive and well. I do not know when I'll be back, but if I die someone will let you know. Hermione."

Draco watched the delicate flick of her wrists as Hermione scribbled the message. She handed it to Draco.

"Dear Mum and Dad, I am not allowed to write much, but I can tell you that I am alive and well. I don't know how much longer I will be away, but I will return to you. I'm sorry if those intruders frightened you, I'll explain everything later. Stay strong and positive. Your loving daughter Hermione."

"That's not what I said!" Draco snapped.

"Well I couldn't very well write about my death to my own mother now could I?" said Hermione.

"Hey, me even informing her should you die would be an undeserved favor, you'd think you'd be a bit more grateful! Now you're just getting her hopes up with this 'returning' nonsense," he rubbed in cruelly, "Besides… how do I know 'Stay positive' isn't code for 'I'm at Malfoy Manor'?"

Hermione laughed at his arrogance, "Oh yes Malfoy," she drawled, "You're just so bloody important that in our spare time me and my mum came up with a secret language incase of the one in a trillion chances I'd be forced to wed you one day."

Draco's cheeks turned a little pink and he sneered at her, releasing the owl into the sky. "Just learn to follow bloody directions!" he yelled as he began storming down the staircase. "It's not like I didn't just risk my own neck for you!"

Hermione dropped her attitude as she reached the hallway behind him, "Thank you by the way," she said faintly.

"Just go to bed now," was all he replied before disappearing into his room and slamming the door.

… … …

_……… "Did she cry?" asked Hermione softly, looking out into the midnight city lights of Dallas Texas from her hotel balcony._

_ "No," said Harry, "I thought she was about to but then she didn't…" he swallowed softly, "I told her we didn't mean to hurt her," he insisted, "That it just happened."_

_ "Harry, she won't even talk to me," said Hermione shaking her head._

_ "Hermione," Harry said firmly, "Ginny doesn't hate you. I asked her directly, she said no. She said she wants to understand… and that she will eventually, but it will just take her awhile to get used to it."_

_ "Is she going to tell Ron?"_

_ "No, Ginny's the only one who knows."_

_ "Surely it's wrong to lie about us…"_

_ "It's not lying," said Harry, "It's just not telling the truth."_

_ Hermione frowned._

_ "Listen Hermione", said Harry in firm whisper, "The Order can't know about us. That includes Ron."_

_ "But why?" she asked._

_ "You know why," said Harry testily, "They'll say "it will jeopardize their trust in us to undergo missions" because we're emotionally attached and blah blah blah."_

_ 'How convenient,' thought Hermione to herself, 'you get to stay best friends even though you're dating his ex-fling just because we're all members of the same league…meanwhile my best friend won't even look at me...'_

_ Hermione turned to face Harry. She was going to tell him she didn't feel fully right about their secrecy, but she met his intense green eyes. Harry had been so quiet and depressed lately and his eyes had been turning dim. But when he looked at her they were more alive then ever… like they used to be. She missed that look, and couldn't bear to see it fade from her good friend's eyes again, so she received Harry's soft kiss without protest …_


	6. Dancing Queen

_ ………"Marvelous work Ronald!" Lupin declared. _

_ Ron blushed._

_ "What's he got there?" asked George._

_ "What's this? Brusto's invite list?" said Fred, taking a list from Lupin._

_ "Yeah," said Ron, still dressed as a chimney sweep, "copied it magically while he was getting me payment."_

_ "Hurry up then," said George impatiently, "Is Lucius going or not?"_

_ "One second, one second," said Fred, who was scanning through the names, "Yes! Yes he is! He has even confirmed it."_

_ George and Fred looked at Lupin anxiously, "Looks like we'll also be going to the party after all," Lupin said._

_ "Righteous!" cried Fred._

_ "I love parties!" said George._

_ "But I thought you said it was too dangerous!" Ron said, the three brothers talking all at once._

_ Lupin chuckled, "I didn't mean you two!" he said to George and Fred, "I meant the Order. And probably just a few of us at that," his eyes turned to Ron, "because you're right Ron, it IS dangerous."_

_ Fred and George sunk down into their seats. "We never get to do anything undercover," complained Fred._

_ "That's because you two are so obvious," said Lupin, "We need someone who doesn't look so suspicious! But who of us shall go…"_

_ "Let me see that Fred," spoke Harry for the first time, since he was very quiet these days. He read through the list and scoffed. "Ivan will be there no doubt," said Harry._

_ "Know him?" asked Lupin._

_ "Remember when we tried to spy on the Prophet a few months ago? To see who was writing all the false stories?"_

_ The table of wizards nodded._

_ "Well obviously we didn't find out to much from that now did we? But one thing we were able to find out for sure was that Brusto had paid off the newspaper from posting a story about Ivan."_

_ "What was the story?" asked Ron._

_ "That he was a womanizing pig basically," said Harry harshly. "He trashed a hotel room or something, the police were called and he blamed it all on his room full of girls. Well that pissed them off some so they all started saying how they didn't even want to go to his room, that he got them drunk or pressured them into it. Next thing he knew there was a big scandal. "_

_ "Well no wonder his father didn't want that printed, terribly concerned about his image he is…" said Lupin, "Perhaps we can use his son's tendencies to our advantage…"_

_ Just then they all turned as the heard the door open. Hermione entered the room and instantly Harry and she made awkward yet pleasant eye contact, then quickly Harry's eyes went back down to the list Ron had stolen. Lupin was also looking at her very closely, after noticing how all the boys in the room sat up a little straighter, removing their elbows from the table and smoothing their hair, smiling friendly at her._

_ "Hmmm…" he said softly, thinking to himself…_

_ "What is it Harry?" _

_ Lupin looked back at Harry who suddenly became so stiff and stern in the face George felt it necessary to see if he was ok._

_ "Rodolphus Lestrange is on this list..." Harry finally answered._

_ The surrounding boys faces grew grim with sudden understanding. An uncomfortable silence filled the room._

_ "I think it's time I take that Harry, if you don't mind," said Lupin as sensitively as he could, although the nervousness in his voice still detectable ………_

… … …

"Miss…Miss…"squeaked Bubsy, trying to rouse Hermione from out of the deep covers.

At first Hermione just groaned, like she always had when it came time to wake up, but after the strike of reality she immediately popped up and looked defensively around. It was just the little house elf.

"Oh," she sighed softly, "Hello," she said to it.

It looked at her funny, not used to any sort of behavior that wasn't mean. "Miss," Bubsy went on, "The kitchens is wondering what you'll be wanting for breakfast miss."

Breakfast, the word alone caused Hermione's stomach to mumble in anticipation. Hermione made her request, and was happy as the house elf turned to leave instantly, as if her order was no problem what-so-ever.

"Right away miss," Bubsy squeaked.

"Oh," said Hermione suddenly, not exactly sure how long she thought she'd be staying there now, but then again not wanting to think about it, "Uh… you can call me Hermione you know," thinking the "miss, miss" thing would get a little old after awhile…

"As you wish Miss Hermione," she squeaked and Hermione laughed a little as her attempt was rendered futile.

"Wait," Hermione called after her as she turned to leave again, "What's your name?"

The elf stood up a little straighter and looked at her as if she wondered if she was in trouble, "Bubsy," it finally confessed.

"Oh," said Hermione, smiling softly, "Well thank you Bubsy."

The elf's eyes grew twice as large and it let out a little squeak as it ran out of the door.

'Geez,' thought Hermione, looks like no one there would keep her company.

She climbed out of the high bed and went to investigate the sunlight creeping in from the drapes over the sliding glass door. Except for the smoggy day full of tall looming shops in Knockturn Alley, Hermione hadn't taken the time to truly get reacquainted with open spaces since she was taken from Voldemort's house.

But after looking out of the window though, she wished she had better prepared herself. The beautiful acreage went on forever, with rolling hills, grassy knolls, winding creeks and thick, deep green forests. The scene made her heart long for Hogwart's… visiting Hagrid with her friends, or watching the boys practice quidditch in lovely green fields. How long had it been since she felt like she was home?

Suddenly there was a soft rap on the door. Hermione stood out on the balcony looking into the room, not knowing what to do. Whoever it was she didn't care, but ultimately she decided not answering was a stupid reason to get into trouble.

Hermione slowly opened the door and was very surprised to see a young girl standing there. She was a little shorter than Hermione, with browner hair tucked up in a bun, and in a long white blouse with black slacks.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello," said Hermione, cocking her head to the side. What was this? A daughter of a friend? Possibly a distant relation? If she were a Malfoy, would she give her trouble?

"I'm Sarah."

She didn't look like Narcissa really; her noise didn't turn up slightly…

"I'm Her..."

"Hermione, I know," she said. "Narcissa sent me here," she added after a short pause.

"Does she want something?" Hermione asked finally.

"Well no, not right now… I'm sorry," Sarah said, "Let me explain, Narcissa told me to go introduce myself, to let you know I'm here if you need anything."

Hermione was suddenly surprised as she figured out this girl was a servant, although she tried to hide it as not to be rude. But honestly, a girl so young as a servant? She didn't look a day over thirteen. It was ridiculous; she should be off playing and going to school.

Hermione wanted to ask her how she had found herself in this place. She looked healthy enough and happy enough as far as Hermione gathered. But still… Suddenly she wished Narcissa was there, to give away more information about the strange new girl.

"Why didn't Narcissa introduce us herself?" asked Hermione.

"Uh… well, Narcissa…"

"Hates that I am here?" asked Hermione smiling

The girl seemed to almost crack a smile herself, as if she too enjoyed Narcissa's misery, "No," she corrected, "It's not that, she's just busy right now, and she needed me to tell you she would like you to meet her in the north wing 2nd floor parlor at 11 o'clock."

"Did she say what for?" Hermione asked, still perplexed, but feeling somewhat comfortable in front of this girl.

"Something about readying you for the announcement."

"Announcement?" Hermione repeated.

"The engagement announcement."

"Oh," she said.

"Sorry," added Sarah, "that's all I know really. But I better get going…"

"Do you- uh, live here then?" asked Hermione quickly.

Sarah nodded, "In the east wing."

"Isn't that where the house-elves stay?" Hermione asked without thinking.

The girl blushed a bit, "Well we have the 4th floor all to ourselves," she blurted.

"Yourselves?" said Hermione.

"Me and my father… but he's not here right now… he should be back in a few days," said Sarah, looking the most nervous she ever did out of the entire conversation, "He travels a lot, but I really must get going, I'm sorry. But remember, if you need anything you can call me."

"Oh... Okay," said Hermione as Sarah quickly turned away and began to leave, "Thank you…" called Hermione after her, but Sarah didn't say anything back, just slightly turned and nodded a little, then disappeared around the corner.

Hermione was still pondering the oddness of the young girl servant when there was another rap on the door. Bubsy entered with a tray much larger than her arm span. Hermione immediately relieved the little elf of her burden.

"Thank you Bubsy! This looks absolutely delicious!" Hermione said, her stomach grumbling more than ever.

The house-elf, still unsure of Hermione's kindness, smiled weakly and quickly exited the room. Hermione looked about at the room's emptiness and sighed. She'd be eating alone, but since she was still in a nightshirt she might as well eat it in bed.

By the time Hermione had finished her fresh warm Belgium waffles covered in whipped cream and syrup, scrambled eggs, bacon, oatmeal with cinnamon swirls and fresh mango she was in quite a good mood… only to look around, recall her solitude and realize she had no one to share it with.

Although her stomach was still overwhelmingly satisfied, Hermione's mind couldn't help but dwell on the hopelessness of the situation and her good mood was soon gone.

She hadn't escaped last night, and that had been her only plan… the only window of opportunity that she thought she had. Oh, the horrible feeling of actually thinking she'd be a pawn in Voldemort's mysterious scheme, to actually act like she wanted to be here… to maybe even marry Draco Malfoy!

No, she couldn't let herself think like that. There would be another window of opportunity. There had to be. That's all she could tell herself, otherwise… why continue living? Why let Voldemort use her in his unknown advancements? Why put herself through the torture? She'd never let herself help him! If there really was no way out, she'd take her own life.

She shuddered at the thought. No, she couldn't think like that either. With just a little more time, with just a little more information, she'd rework her chance to get away. Somehow, she'd get another chance.

She was ambitious and determined, she knew that. But she still felt horrible. How could you not be, being held against your will in such a place. It was nearing ten in the morning, and the only thing she could think of to raise her dismal hopes even the slightest degree was the universal goodness of a hot shower.

… … …

Hermione pushed open the door a little bit and peered in, Narcissa was sitting in the sunlight reading the Daily Prophet, a cigarette between her fingers and a house-elf standing stilly and silently a few feet away from her, ready for orders. Hermione opened the door all the way and entered. Narcissa must have heard her enter, but still did not look.

"Ms. Malfoy…" she said apprehensively as she approached the table, she was asked there after all, "Sarah told me to come see you…"

"A young lady of high wizarding esteem always waits to be invited in," said Narcissa stiffly, still looking at the paper but also putting out her cigarette, "and a young lady of high wizarding esteem never, ever speaks without being spoken to when in the presence of her elders," finally she folded the paper over and turned to look at Hermione, her piercing eyes finally falling upon the girl's face.

She had found a black skirt and blue button up blouse in the walk in closet, and had pulled her curls up into a ponytail.

"Well it's nice to see you at least shower," drawled Narcissa, causing Hermione to scowl, "and you were on time…" she nonchalantly pulled another gift bag from the other side of her chair and set it on the table without saying a word about. When Hermione continued to just stand there Narcissa furrowed her brow, "You may sit," she quipped as if it was painfully obvious that that was ok.

Hermione slipped into a chair across from Narcissa; in front of her was a plate full of hors d'oeuvers, little crackers smeared with some white cream and a slice of cheese on top.

"Feel free to try it," said Narcissa as she ruffled through some papers she also had before her.

Food? Okay. Hermione picked up a cracker and put it in her mouth. It went down smooth enough and was actually quite tasty, then she sucked some cream that had gotten on the tip of her thumb. Immediately Narcissa shook her head.

"No fingers in your mouth!" she ordered.

Hermione slowly put her hand down. So this is what this was, training the dog eh? Fine. If these idiots thought they had to teach her to be a stuck-up spoiled ignorant bastard pureblood then she'd show them what a fast learner she was. The sooner she got them off her back the sooner she could concentrate on leaving.

Hermione daintily took another cracker and slowly placed it in her mouth, where she pursed her lips together and chewed it with a bored yet prissy expression. Narcissa leered at her subtle mocking but said nothing; instead she shuffled through her papers once more.

She seemed to be quite focused on what was before her so much that Hermione felt like she wasn't even there, so she just continued to eat the hors d'oeuvres and look out the window.

She could see that on that side of the house contained the pool and patio area, which, like everything else, was beautifully crafted and landscaped. The pool curved into a little cove, and stylish tables and chairs were merged in with pots of beautiful tropical flowers. Just beyond there, was a pool house as big as Hermione's normal house.

"Can you dance?" asked Narcissa suddenly, looking at one particular sheet of paper.

"Excuse me?" said Hermione, not sure she heard her right.

"Draco is a marvelous dancer…" Narcissa boasted, "So a live orchestra might be nice treat at the reception. But if you can't dance then we might as not even bother," she finished snottily.

Hermione looked at her perplexed, she was no contest winner but who didn't know a few traditional steps? "I can dance fine enough, and what I don't know officially I can't imagine being too hard to catch on," she said defensively.

Narcissa sighed, "Well for it to be worth it we should get you some dancing books. Hopefully you can manage a few waltzes, I mean it's not like Draco could be anymore embarrassed" She turned to the house elf, asking it to fetch the books.

Him? 'Embarrassed'? That was nothing compared to her outrage! Her complete and total disgust to the thought of their wedding, such an event that went against her very basic principles, far out weighed any of Draco's embarrassment! There were bigger problems to deal with, who cared about planning the details of a marriage that was a total sham?

"Do you really think some fake reception is going to matter?" Hermione spat without thinking.

Although it angered Narcissa, she didn't take any stricter actions against her than an icy tone, "That's exactly the attitude Lucius has!" she cried, "Complaining about the cost of flowers and saying the colors on the invitation didn't matter! He didn't even want to throw an engagement party! But I couldn't disagree more. It's bad enough we have to go through all of this because of you, the least we can do to show we are still respectable Malfoy's despite current circumstance is put on a decent ceremony!"

Hermione regretted saying anything as Narcissa continued to rant passive aggressively against Lucius, "I mean it's not like anyone bloody cares what this is putting me through! I haven't dreamed of my son's wedding since the day he was born or anything! Why, it was going to be the grandest social gathering elite society has ever seen! And now… now! Now it's ruined!"

Hermione glared at Narcissa. What a self-righteous twit. Hermione was being forced to marry Draco while she was worried about what it would do to her reputation as a rich bitch? Hermione hoped Narcissa wouldn't be offended if she didn't cry about it.

But Narcissa just kept on going, obviously this had been on her mind for awhile and now she finally had a chance to say it, "My only solace is that this isn't permanent. I don't know _when_ exactly but someday…" she trailed off not knowing how to put it, "you'll be …disposed off… and then when Draco_ really_ gets married, then maybe we can redeem ourselves. But that doesn't give us any right to go being tacky and cheap now! There still is _some_ name we can salvage; we're bloody Malfoy's after all. This wedding may be absolutely meaningless but Merlin knows it's going to be tasteful!" feeling satisfied with her mini-tantrum she sat back in her chair and huffed.

'Alright, fine, throw your silly wedding reception if it will shut you up,' thought Hermione, a little freaked out by Narcissa. She hoped not all 'elite' wizard wives were as insane as her, but then she realized that they probably were.

She could only imagine how horrible this little community of 'pure families' must be, surely nothing like the kind, genuine Weasley's who had to work for everything they had but would gladly give it all to you in a heartbeat anyway.

No, these corrupt, fake and pretentious people were probably just as snooty and image obsessed as Narcissa, Lucius and Draco.

Hermione could just see it all now, complimenting and fawning all over each other for their latest achievements or purchases one minute (but really cursing each other's eyes out inwardly out of jealousy or contempt), only to coyly brag about themselves and inversely insult the other the next minute. Everyone pretends to adore the other, but if given the chance, they'd destroy the other's empire in the blink of an eye. How could they live in such a society? It was absolutely disgusting.

For a second there, Hermione's eyes almost teared up. Every little girl dreams of her wedding, and having those kinds of people at her wedding was _definitely_ not part of her dream.

But then it dawned on her… why would they come? Narcissa was obviously worried about what people thought, leading Hermione to believe that most of the people she associated with didn't like mixed-bloods, hence this wedding being so humiliating.

But just because some families didn't approve of mix-bloods didn't make them in with you-know-who, Hermione thought, recalling Sirius's parents and their indifferent apathy to the dark arts… And then again some of the high society pure families advocated mixing quite publicly.

Surely the rich, powerful and just members, such as the uncorrupted (but still ridiculously rich and snooty) ministry families would be invited; they were Lucius's coworkers and esteemed colleagues after all. But how much did the elite society know about this wedding? It was safe to assume everyone knows who they are, what with both being top students in Europe's most famous wizarding school, and both inadvertently famous either through association with Harry Potter or Lucius Malfoy….Did they think Draco and Hermione honestly wanted to wed? That they loved each other? Was that what she was expected to make everyone believe!

"Does everyone know Voldemort… requested this…. arrangement?" Hermione asked, fearful that it might be out of bounds, 'everyone' meaning the Malfoy's friends, 'frie-nemies' and the families Narcissa was so secretly desperate to be better than.

Narcissa's head was lowered back into her papers but her eyes looked sternly up at Hermione. "Some know…" she said cryptically, "and out of dear friendship they have agreed to help us during our… time of need,"

'The Death Eater families…' thought Hermione as Narcissa continued,

"They have agreed to be apart of the wedding party… the bridesmaids, the groomsmen, ushers and the like. But if you're wondering about high wizarding society abroad, then no, of course they do not, what would be the point if they knew you were forced? Though there are of course rumors…Rumors we must put an end to."

"Wh-..." Hermione began to form the word 'why' to ask why Voldemort wanted them to get married in the first place, but thought better of it. Perhaps Narcissa wasn't the best person to get that information from.

Hermione was saved by the returning house-elf, who handed her "Step dancing for the inept" to which she glared at angrily.

… … …

Hermione sighed deeply as she kicked open her door and dropped her gift bag and dance books into the room after carrying them all that way. 'No more Narcissa,' she thought to herself, relieved and proud she had gotten out of that parlor. She managed to convince Narcissa she needed some quiet time to make decisions about the wedding and that Hermione better get to learning to dance. After talking to the horrid women, she was now happy to be alone, opposed to earlier that morning.

Her curiosity led her to the gift bag, which she dumped out on to the floor. She instantly regretted it because it was her CD playing stereo and CD's, among other solid items that clunked and clattered all over. After immediately picking it up, she concluded from her inspection that it was probably ok.

Then she looked down around her at the other items. Her eyes lit up as she discovered cans of Mountain Dew surrounded her. She could squeal. She popped one open and chugged half the can. It was so incredibly delicious; the memory from a simpler and happier life seemed to fill a void in her. Although, it was a tad warm. She was thinking she'd ask a house-elf to chill the rest for her as she rummaged through the CD's Lucius had taken from her room in England.

She smiled at her odd diverse taste in muggle music… Grateful Dead, The doors, Van Halen, how she had missed hearing her favorite classic rock bands, she had so many she adored. The next abundant group would have to be singer songwriter's like Ben Harper and Jason Mraz, exactly what she used to play when she needed to de-stress. She smiled at her CD's she got a lot of crap for from her muggle friends… Christina Aguilera, the Spice Girls.

'What do they know?' she thought jokingly. Some pop music just plain ruled and she'd defend those albums to her grave! Then came a Britney Spears CD… and Wang Chung? She laughed out loud. Okay, so those she was a little ashamed of.

American artists were quite fun, but Hermione was utterly relieved to see Lucius had grabbed her all time favorite CD's, British of course, Coldplay and The Beatles. When she discovered all the mixed CD's some friends had made her, as well as ones she had made herself, she had to quickly set them back down, afraid the nostalgia and longing that would result from the handwriting and inside jokes on them would make her very homesick and upset.

Interested to see if she had broken her stereo, she chose Outkast over Incubus and popped it in the player, crossing her fingers as she pressed play. The funky staccato beat escaped from the speakers and Hermione grinned from ear to ear, the batteries she had jinxed to never die working like a charm! She took another sip of Mountain Dew as she bobbed her head to the song (the only rhythm a little British girl like her had) and slid the dance book over to herself. Upon opening it a large canvas mat magically popped out from the front cover. She unfolded it and realized it had footsteps with numbers on it, "The Blue Danube," it read, and to Hermione it sounded vaguely familiar.

"Pity," she said softly out loud, "I wanted to learn Swan Lake."

Magically, the mat morphed its steps and the top read "Swan Lake". Hermione smiled, "The tango!" she said, and again the mat changed to fit the song. 'Well that's neat,' she thought and she rose from the floor, laying the mat out flat.

She decided she might as well try her hand at the Emperor Waltz and Outkast was as good background music as any.

She grinned foolishly as she attempted the classic dance step while keeping the beat of the modern music, which, although she looked silly, was actually quite fun. Perhaps being cooped up in a prison for six months leaves you easily amused for a while, or perhaps she was so intensely homesick and depressed, she was desperate for anything to lift her spirits.

"Da da daa Da da!" she sang outstretching her arms and twirling in good fun as she became more used to the order of the routine.

As Draco turned the corner the weird and unfamiliar noise filled his ears. He crinkled his forehead as he wondered what the hell it was. He was not surprised to hear it grow in volume as he approached Hermione's room.

The door had remained open since she had kicked it due to her arms being full, and since she was distracted by the new things in front of her she never did remember to shut it.

She twirled around only to see a muddy, tired looking blonde boy with a broomstick over his shoulder looking in. Startled, her arms immediately dropped down to her side, but the music continued to play. Draco watched as her once happy smiling face fell into blank sternness.

After a rush of thought, she decided there was no point in getting embarrassed in front of Malfoy. He had already seen her weep after all, and that hadn't been the end of the world. Besides, what did his opinion matter in the end?

"Need something?" she asked angrily, agitated at his snoopiness and his blatant rudeness to just stop and stare.

Draco, being an only child, thought nothing of his invasiveness simply because he didn't know any better, crankily asked what the hell the racket was.

"Outkast," Hermione said simply.

Draco lifted an eyebrow at her, still looking tired and now slightly disgusted.

"Is that alright?" Hermione asked, sensing a slight desire to yell at her just for the hell of it coming from him.

And don't think the thought hadn't crossed Draco's mind… but, he ultimately decided that he really didn't care and he shrugged at Hermione. "Outkast" didn't seem _that_ bad he supposed (a likely excuse for his suppressed curiosity, he had never heard much muggle music before…)

"They seem sort of like Boogiemen," added Draco nonchalantly, comparing them to a wizard group.

Hermione gave a little laugh, "A bit better than them I'd say."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Well of course you would, _muggle-born_."

Hermione glared at him, "I'd like to tell you that that's lame generalization to assume of me, that I only like muggle things, but when it comes to music unfortunately you're stereotype is correct."

Draco scoffed, "You'd say anything muggle was better than wizard. Don't act like you're not biased."

"Well I'm not," quipped Hermione, "Unlike _some people_, I respect the diversity of _both_ worlds. But it just so happens to be true in this one instance that muggle music_ is_ better than wizard music."

"Really," Draco said condescendingly, "And why is that I wonder?"

"Because muggle music takes more work, more feeling gets put into it."

"Huh?" asked Draco, looking at her like she might as well have 'stupid' written on her forehead.

"Anyone can bewitch an instrument and sing along," said Hermione, defending her opinion, "but to play an instrument with your bare hands, to actually strum the strings or beat the drums, to create the sound every time, that takes work. Muggle music just carries more emotion in it, more meaning."

To this Draco merely glared, he had no idea what she was talking about, what it was like to have to do something complicated with your own hands… "Whatever," he said, dismissing her rudely and wiping old sweat and dirt off of his cheek, "I need to go shower so listen up, look nice by 7 o'clock. I have to take you to dinner."

He turned and left before he could see the puzzled expression on Hermione's face.


	7. Hot Date

'Arrogant, narrow-minded, horrible, horrible boy! Who does he think he is assuming he knows me?' Hermione cursed as she rifled through the walk-in closet for an outfit.

Scowling, she recalled his stormy blue eyes as he rolled them way back up into his head when talking to her. He could roll them so far Hermione wondered if he could practically see his rugged rebellious locks of blonde hair sprawled across his forehead.

"'Of course _you'd_ like anything _muggle_'" she mimicked, examining a little green dress then tossing it aside and examining another, "Pretentious asshole," she muttered, critiquing the way he stood in her doorway.

She could see it all in her mind, his thickly proportioned arms crossed against his chest as he leered at her, 'It's just so unbelievable,' she continued to think, 'the horridness of some people. Of all the stuck up…My god what an amazing dress,' her attention was quickly drawn from how much she disliked Draco to how fabulous the outfits actually were in her closet.

Narcissa must have gone to Paris or Milan for such ensembles on the behalf of having 'presentable' clothes for her to wear. Hermione thought it was ridiculous to blow so much money on petty material things, but…being female after all, she was weak. And she caved. She just couldn't believe the beauty and expense of some of the clothing, each trendy, one of a kind and completely alluring.

She held one from Gladrags Wizardwear up to herself, stuck out her round hip, which appeared to have returned after a few good meals, and pouted. Feeling silly, she watched the reflection in the full length mirror of herself crack a smile. One good thing about having to eat dinner with Draco was that she that she would get to wear things she could only dream of otherwise; at least she'd have the private fun of feeling like some posh French super model. How often did she get the chance to go out to a fancy restaurant in wizard London dressed like royalty? She could only hope Draco wouldn't ruin it too bad by being the ass that he is…

… … …

Draco closed his eyes as the hot water hit his face, washing away the sweat and dirt he had earned from playing some quidditch with the boys. Behind his eye lids was the image of Hermione frowning at him from the mat she had been dancing on, her long golden brown hair twirling around her.

"She's so damn weird," he thought, "and terribly annoying…" He was honestly surprised they hadn't had a more significant fight yet.

Back at Hogwarts they got into terrible spats. Sure they all started because of potty and the weasel, but it didn't take too long for her to chime in like some armored defender. She on many occasions beat him at his own game with her razor wit, crucial argumentative points and fitting insults, trying to embarrass him horribly in front of his peers.

They name called and threatened, hell, she had made him so close to drawing his wand on her with her smartass remarks so many times… Their hallway arguments got so heated that it was truly lucky a teacher came along to eventually stop them, punishment or no punishment.

Perhaps they were both too busy wallowing in their own misery to turn on each other. As much as Draco disliked her, he knew this whole thing wasn't her idea, nor her fault. But it's not like he could dare come out and say he was against the whole thing and that he wouldn't go through with it to the real owner of the plan… obviously no one was stupid enough to go against Voldemort's wishes. And without being able to speak out against the source of his problem, he already knew it would only be a matter of time before he started taking it out on Hermione.

Especially if she continued to be the hotheaded girl who had the nerve to talk back to him that she was at Hogwarts. One would think with all she had to loose she'd shut up and behave out of fear of torture or death. It boggled Draco's mind that she still attempted to stick up for herself.

'Oh well…'he sighed to himself. He did enjoy a night out of the house very much, he could only hope Hermione wouldn't ruin it by being a bitch…

… … …

The heels of Hermione's shoes clicked on the marble floor as she walked into the huge entryway.

"Let's go," said Draco, emerging from a side parlor room, pulling down the sleeves of his blue button up shirt and fastening the buttons. He didn't even look at her; he just heard her coming and headed for the door.

Hermione walked a step behind him down the walkway to a shiny black car. Hermione was staring down at his brown shoes and khaki pants when Draco abruptly stopped, causing her to almost bump into him.

He turned to look at her in annoyance, "Walk much…" he started to say as Hermione raised her eyes up. She didn't respond and Draco was thankful, because he doubted he could speak again if he needed to.

She looked like she did last night at dinner, only more so. She had on a deep red silky dress with thin straps, but it wasn't so much the fashionably acclaimed dress that caught his eye, but just how good she happened to look in it. When he turned to yell at her he was taken back by her exposed skin.

Hermione didn't really know what to make of his behavior as Draco's mouth stopped moving and he just looked at her. Somehow, he managed to open the car door, his whole reason for stopping anyway, and allowed her to get in. Hermione accepted the gesture and Draco's eye followed behind her, finding the skin of her shoulders and back to be just as smooth and creamy as the skin of her neck and chest.

His eyes lowered down to her slender waist line, curvaceous hips and butt as she climbed in. Situating herself in the seat, her skirt hiked up higher on her thighs and Draco observed the length and smoothness of her legs as she crossed them. He closed the car door and his face morphed into disbelief. Had she always been so pretty? How had he not noticed? …Maybe, he had.

A whirlwind of memory resulted as he recalled the piggish comments of what certain Slytherin boys said they would like to do to the hot nerdy mudblood in Gryffindor house.

In fact, by 5th year her simple yet genuine good looks were more famous than he had ever realized, no longer having any doubt that every single Slytherin boy would renounce his famous prejudices if she in fact had ever showed remote interest in them in an attempt of winning a chance with her, rendering the perverse comments as just being typical locker room trash talk to show off in front of the other guys.

And it wasn't just her natural beauty that was attractive, but her apparent lack of effort to look appealing and the fact that she appeared to be so unaware of her prettiness, giving her an aura of innocence and friendliness. No wonder a celebrity like Viktor Krum, who would be constantly bombarded by egotistical buxom females, would be attracted to someone who was just as beautiful, yet intelligent and down to earth.

But damn, how could Draco not remember this? Had his incredible dislike for Harry and Ron really forced him to ignore it all?

Bitterness engulfed him as he finally made his way around the back of the car and into his own seat.

"Cyrus's Circus please," he told the chauffer, sitting back, avoiding another glance at Hermione, although he really wanted to. 'Her being pretty just makes her horrid personality that much worse…' he thought, daydreaming about how nice it would have been if the sorting hat placed upon her head saw only pureblood and ruthlessness and thereby cried out Slytherin instead of Gryffindor. He sighed, 'At least this will give me a little more creditability when everyone hears we're getting married," he thought, wondering if Voldemort himself knew how attractive she was, planning it that way.

Hermione, whose thoughts had moved past Draco's odd behavior already, was excited about the chance to go to Cyrus's Circus, a block of wizard London's finest shops and restaurants and smiled a little to herself.

Ron said he'd be sure to take her there once, she remembered. He'd save all his money and buy her a fancy dinner, then take her to the opera. They said they'd do it to celebrate graduation, their new found freedom as adult wizards. Of course this was all well before Ginny and Harry had broken up, slightly because of her…

"We're here," Draco said as the car came to a slow stop. Hermione stepped out of the car and looked around in awe.

The nighttime streets were filled with colorful lights and flashing signs. Restaurant after restaurant could be seen all along the boulevard with the occasional club, theatre or art gallery, and the sidewalks were filled with couples out walking, dressed in fine clothes and smiling softly, most likely enjoying a date, as well as pantomimes and glamorous clowns parading around on stilts, blowing fire. The clamor of chit chat and soft laughter could be heard from balconies were people were dining outside on the lovely moonlit evening. It reminded Hermione of New York City mixed with Circe de Sole, she absolutely loved the bohemian atmosphere and desperately wished she could run off and explore every inch of the district.

But then she thought better of it. Surely such a place was more fun with company, even if the said company was appalling. Besides, he probably knew his way around, this being an obvious place for the cool rich kids to run amok. Not too mention the little problem with that whole binding charm thing.

She turned to look at Draco who was coming around from the car, looking at her as well. He cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'm supposed to take you to Compagnie Délicate," he said nodding towards a stuffy looking French restaurant, the host turning down an angry looking couple because the man wasn't dressed up enough. The news caused Hermione's shoulders to slump. Although the food was guaranteed to be fine gourmet cuisine, she had been hoping for a place that was a little more laid back. "However," Draco went on, "I'm kind of tired of the place, so I was thinking, if you wouldn't tell anyone, we could go to this really good Italian place down the street called Casa de Amore."

Hermione looked down to where Draco was pointing, a building filled with people. Music and laughter seemed to be pouring from it and it was decorated with all kinds of antique vintage Italian signs and lights.

"Ok," said Hermione, trying to stifle her excitement.

… … …

"Young Mr. Malfoy!" cried the host graciously, "What a pleasure! Don't you look strapping! Dressed up for a romantic date are we? And what a fine lady she is, absolutely gorgeous, touché Mr. Malfoy, touché!"

"Uh… yes," said Draco awkwardly, "…just here for dinner."

"Of course," responded the host, "Here, let me take you to the lava room, it's quite full of the young and beautiful such as yourselves…"

"Oh, uh, no thanks, not tonight" said Draco hurriedly, recalling how desperate his peers were to get into the exclusive restaurant, "a quiet table for two should suffice."

The host smiled mischievously, "But of course, right this way then."

The host led them upstairs to a calmer floor, although it was far from empty. And it did little good according to Draco, noticing how the levels of the restaurant were split and all sections were practically visible from everywhere else.

Hermione didn't notice though, and as they sat, saying nothing to each other and looking over the menu, Hermione's eyes wandered everywhere, admiring the colorful personalities of the servers and the unique décor. The tables truly were filled with the rich and beautiful and everyone slyly eyed everyone else. Hermione had no doubt that this is where all the powerful and image obsessed wished to be seen.

"Good evening, my name is Alexander and I shall be your server for the evening…"

"Very good," Draco interrupted, "I'll have the chef's ravioli and sirloin, medium please, and she'll have a Caesar salad …"

"Yes," Hermione interrupted this time, "Caesar salad with a chef's ravioli as well, I'll take my sirloin medium too thanks."

Draco stared at her with wide eyes. A girl who actually ate. None of his other dates had actually ordered a real meal before. They always got a silly salad to appear health conscious and then begrudgingly ate off his plate asking him if he thought they were fat.

"And can you tell me what "pelle della patata" is?"

"Certainly Miss," said the server, "It is an appetizer of potato skin halves, fried, with cheeses, sour cream, bits of bacon and Italian seasoning on top."

"Mmmm," said Hermione, "One of those too please."

"Coming right up," said the server, flipping his notepad closed and walking away.

Draco stared at her curiously, wondering if she was trying to anger him by racking up the bill, as if any price was an inconvenience. The truth is, Hermione figured as much, and she'd probably never be in Casa de Amore again, so she might as well enjoy it.

The server returned with their pelle della patata. Hermione smiled, forgetting how fast wizard restaurants were. Draco, secretly pleased Hermione had ordered them as the tasty smell filled his nose, looked about the section of the restaurant they were dining in and couldn't help but feel like everyone was glancing at their table. Were people wising up to the absurdity of the couple? 'It is quite an odd match,' Draco thought, about to look back at Hermione, who was taking a bite of the appetizer.

"What in heavens name did you just dip that into?" asked Draco.

"Ranch," answered Hermione matter-of-factly, enjoying the delicious food.

"What?" cried Draco.

"Ranch," Hermione repeated, dipping again and taking another bite as Draco watched, "I dip practically everything in ranch. Bread, French fries, pizza…"

Draco just stared at her apprehensively. "Pizza? That's so…"

"Oh shut up," she interrupted, "you've never even tried it. Not that I'm surprised, you're obviously the type set in his ways…"

"And what does that mean?" asked Draco defensively.

"Just that no one would ever expect you to try anything new is all," she said, "You like things predictable and the same…"

"So boring and safe basically?" Draco said

"Well, yeah." Hermione answered.

"So you're an expert on who I am are you?" he said angrily.

"Well I'm no psychologist but I'm pretty sure you can't possibly be that complicated."

Draco glared at her, inspiring Hermione to rise to the challenge.

"So you're saying you're not old fashioned, your mind isn't closed off to any new concepts or ideas?" she inquired coyly, "That you are in fact an accepting, _tolerant_ person, eager to experience _new things_?"

"As far as you know, yes," said Draco.

Hermione laughed, "You're mad."

"Am not!" spat Draco

"No, not mad as in bonkers, but mad mad. You're angry with me."

"Well only because you are quite snotty and presumptuous," said Draco with a sneer.

"Oh really?" she said, looking smug, "Would you mind explaining the difference to me then, of me being presumptuous about you when you can so easily dismiss me as someone who automatically favors muggle-culture?"

Draco glared at her again, realizing her point. He reached across the table, picking up a pelle della patata and dipped it into Hermione's ranch and shoved a bite into his mouth as if dramatically proving his own point.

'Bloody hell,' he thought as he chewed, 'it's quite good.'

"Well?" asked Hermione impatiently.

"It's alright," said Draco causing Hermione to laugh softly as he attempted a blank face.

The sight of Hermione laughing, some of her long wavy hair resting on her shoulders bouncing gently due to its lightness and volume, made him feel slightly uncomfortable. Following the long beautiful hair with his eyes to its ends led to the low collar the dress, Hermione's round figure filling out the top.

He looked off over Hermione's shoulder as to stop his ridiculous behavior of staring at her. A woman at another table had been looking right at them. How long had she been staring? She smiled smugly when Draco's eyes met hers and then she appeared to excuse herself from her table and walk off towards the restrooms. Draco thought nothing more of her as the server brought out their food.

"You're not going to dunk your ravioli in ranch are you?" asked Draco, taking a bite of the deliciously prepared cuisine.

Hermione laughed softly again, laying her napkin across her lap, "No, not ravioli…"

"Well that's good," said Draco, "I do hope you plan on refraining from doing that at our wedding dinner."

Hermione suddenly lowered her fork, as if thinking something over. She looked up at him with a serious expression, "There doesn't need to be a wedding you know," she whispered firmly, "You could just let me go right now, and this whole thing will be over."

Draco looked at her intensely. "You've got some guts," he finally said, "to speak so freely like that to me."

Hermione slightly rolled her eyes, "I have nothing to worry about, I know you hate this just as much as I do."

"As true as that is Granger," he began to drawl, "I would be punished severely if I were to lose you."

Hermione stared at him for a long moment, then sat back in her chair angrily, "Why are you loyal to someone who asks such things of you?" she finally uttered cruelly.

For the first time since being reintroduced to Draco did Hermione feel frightened, simply because of the look of malice on Draco's face as she said what she did.

It was an expression of utmost loathing, as if she crossed some terribly taboo and forbidden line and would be punished extensively for it. He did not answer her question. and she, for once, did not push it any further.

"Fine," she whispered softly, "Don't release me right now… just one more free meal till I escape I suppose…" and she picked her fork back up and began to eat her dinner.

…The woman who had been staring at Draco sat down in front of a public communicator. She flicked her wand at the device and said a name. A man's gruff face appeared as a floating orb in front of the women's.

"Rita!" cried the man, "How many times do I have to tell you not to call here anymore? You're fired, alright!"

"Oh yeah," she said coyly, "I forgot… that's so tragic too, because I have quite the story…"

… … …

Draco found himself once again staring against his will at Hermione's legs as she curled them up onto the back of the plush leather seats.

She was looking out the window as the car drove at wizard speed back to Malfoy Manor, both with their bellies full and neither saying a word.

She already missed Cyrus's Circus and the joys of going out to actually enjoy an evening. After a brief taste of a normal life, she was craving freedom so much then, recalling how she had just expected it after school was done…

She'd be an adult and a legal wizard, free to travel between both worlds, pursuing the life of her dreams. Going to places like London and Cyrus's Circus whenever she pleased with whoever she pleased, living her life to the fullest. And she'd _earned_ it too, after numerous long years of working her arse off at school.

All those dreams and expectations had to be put on hold of course, after the seriousness of 5th year.

She made a decision, and that was to leave Hogwarts and work with the Order until the Dark Lord was no longer a threat.

The call of her happy adult life would have to wait, its rite of passage no longer graduation, but the defeat of Voldemort.

It was ironic then, that she came upon a completely different form of imprisonment than Hogwarts when she was captured by death eaters that dreadful night at Karkaroff's. And now here she was a captive once more.

Her heart yearned for freedom and she knew she needed to figure out a way to escape; she just had to.

Draco finally managed to pull his eyes away from her as they neared his house, suddenly feeling very angry but not knowing why.

He walked quickly back into the house, Hermione once again keeping up at his heels.

Once inside the foyer Draco immediately headed for the elongated curved staircase to the right. Without so much as a goodbye or goodnight he disappeared up the stairs, no doubt needing to tell Lucius that everything went smoothly. Hermione made the long walk back to her room by herself.

She unclasped the dress and let it fall to the ground. She hastily pulled on a t-shirt and climbed into the huge fluffy bed. She realized she had taken it for granted the night before.

First she completely ignored its existence as she suffered what was almost a nervous breakdown after being caught trying to escape by Lucius.

The pain of almost suffocating outside of charm's boundaries had left her weak and exhausted. And then to return to her quarters only to see artifacts and photos of her childhood home, it was too much to bear. It was no wonder she never even made it into the bed. Memories of the past had flooded into her mind and then she collapsed onto her bedroom floor, where she had begun to cry hysterically.

Out of one jail and into another, her mind was flooded with horrible thoughts. Still dying to know how she had been captured in the first place, and why none of her friends had come to rescue her, then having to deal with the fact that she had just spent an evening with the Dark Lord, the man they had been searching so tirelessly for, and had no way to kill him, she wept uncontrollably for hours.

And then there was the dazed and unexpected experience with Draco, who thought she was crying because of her parents. True as it was, it was only a fraction of it. She was thinking of her parents yes, but also everyone else she missed, and the overhanging terrible feeling that she may in actuality be forced to marry Draco.

After Draco's incredibly surprising act of mercy up in the owlery, Hermione returned to her room emotionally and physically exhausted beyond words, where she just fell into the bed and slept deeply till morning.

Now, a day later, she was tired once again, but this time aware enough to realize that she lay in the most comfortable bed she had ever known. She snuggled up to a down pillow and Crookshanks and then closed her eyes, not wanting to cry again that night.

Although sleep came peacefully to Hermione at first, it was not so kind to Draco. After returning from giving his parents a report of the evening, he laid wide awake in his bed. He hated to close his eyes, because the image of her was always there.

He didn't understand, he had been with plenty of attractive girls, but none of them ever clung to his thoughts like this. They were had and forgotten, and if for whatever unlikely reason he was unable to have a certain one, there was always another to take her place, the first never thought of again.

Why would she of all people cloud his mind? Her good looks were now annoying him and he tossed and turned angrily all night. But then again, so did Hermione eventually. Falling asleep may have been pleasant, but her dreams were something she still wished to do without.


	8. Only the second day

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews! You all are being so nice! However, I must remind you that I'm not afraid of constructive criticism, in fact, I want it (or even flames, if you're into being an unnecessary dick like that, I get a good laugh anyway). But, I suppose if you just want to say you like it that's cool too smiles like a dork.

Also, to address a few reviews specifically, the wedding won't be for about 10 more chapters, which is ridiculously fast if you think about it in real time, especially since the majority of the magical community doesn't even know about it yet! I'd like to make it feel like their engagement was a little more believable in length, but I highly doubt y'all want me to kill time with Draco and Hermione's sexual tension for 40 chapters while 3 months go by, that'd get a bit tedious. I do want to put Draco and Hermione through a few more things before they become man and wife though, which is why the wedding is in a few weeks, plus I was thinking of letting Narcissa throw an engagement party because I am nice to her like that.

By the way, are the flashback/dreams confusing? I mean they should be a little bit, but I don't want it to be impossible to comprehend. They are out of chronological order, and so far they've only been Hermione's dreams/memories, so it's only been what she perceives to have happened. Soon other perspectives will develop.

Finally, I want to brag. I finally figured out all the little hidden tricks on J.K.'s official website, therefore I rule. And, I saw the coolest rare HP stuff! Y'all should check it out, her site is really funny and cute.

Anyways! Thanks for reading, and thanks you in advance for reviewing this chapter! (Because I know you will, right?)

P.S. Thank you to everyone who offered to beta for me, but knivesgirl346 is already kindly doing it for me. You can still critique me though!

… … …

Hermione awoke to her second morning at Malfoy Manor at noon with a great big yawn, shaking away the uncertainty of her dreams. As if waiting, Bubsy immediately approached the side of the bed.

"Something to eat miss?"

"Hermione…" she corrected, rubbing her eyes.

"Miss Hermione…" said Bubsy, looking nervous.

"Country omelet? …Lots of cheese?" Hermione asked.

"Of course," Bubsy squeaked

"And some wheat toast…" she cried after Bubsy as she hurriedly turned to leave, "…with raspberry jam!" The door closed behind Bubsy.

Hermione swung herself out of the tall bed and made her way to the balcony once again, because the view was just that beautiful. With the soft breeze and the bright sun, she wondered how many pure families had an entire forest as their backyard and her heart longed for camping outdoors… something her and her father made sure to do at least once every summer holiday.

Bubsy quickly returned and left again, and Hermione enjoyed her meal alone. Leaving the tray on her bed she took another shower. When she was finished she made her way to her closet to see that the tray was gone.

'Those elves sure are crafty,' she thought to herself as she looked through the closet once again. Though the ensembles were still just as stunning as the night before, Hermione wished there was a larger selection of more casual outfits, and finally decided on the most comfortable looking thing she could find, a slim fitting gray skirt and a pale pink blouse.

She exited the closet and stopped in the middle of the room. What was she supposed to do now? There was a soft rap on the door. Hermione sighed, 'I should have enjoyed the peace while I had it… now I'll probably have to go see Narcissa!' she thought incorrectly.

"Sarah," she said as she opened the door.

The young girl had a measuring tape in her hand, "May I come in?" she asked softly.

Hermione said nothing but smiled small and gestured her in.

Sarah awkwardly held up the measuring tape, "I've been asked to fit you… for your wedding dress."

"Oh," Hermione said, her arms going limp at her sides, "Very well then…"

"I'll try to hurry," said Sarah.

"Oh, well take your time…" Hermione said awkwardly, nervous that she scared the girl. It wasn't Sarah that upset her; it was the ever-growing reality of the wedding.

Hermione extended her arms out as Sarah made slow circles around her, taking note of her body's proportions.

"So…" Sarah said softly after awhile, "Any ideas on what kind of dress you want?"

Hermione scoffed slightly and then rolled her eyes, "I could care less," she said.

Sarah looked uncomfortable once again but could sense Hermione was trying to be friendly. "Well, your dinner last night then," she said, "Did you have a good time?"

Hermione thought it was bittersweet that the little servant girl recognized Hermione's misery and was trying to cheer her up. "Well the restaurant was great," she answered, "And I suppose Malfoy could've been worse."

Sarah huffed and smirked as she measured Hermione's leg, "Well that's the most unique answer I've ever heard a girl say the day after an evening with Draco Malfoy"

"Really?" asked Hermione.

"Well yes," said Sarah, "They're positively giddy afterwards, it's hilarious. The only bad thing I suppose is having to deal with them after Draco hasn't talked to them for a few days, they don't take it too well, its hell actually…"

"And this happens often?" asked Hermione.

"Oh all the time," said Sarah, and then she paused slightly, "or perhaps I mean it used to happen all the time right?" then she laughed a little, "Everyone is surely going to hate you, that's for sure."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, of course the Malfoy's and the other death eating families hated her, but she got the impression that Sarah meant _everyone_ everyone.

"What do you mean what do I mean?" Sarah said laughing, "Draco is the most eligible bachelor in all of wizard Europe."

Hermione took the news with private shock as to not look foolish. Apparently everyone knew that, but to Hermione it was absolutely ludicrous. Girls would be jealous of Her? How hysterical. She'd trade them places any day that's for sure.

But still, she couldn't believe she didn't realize it earlier. Of course not everyone knew how horrid Draco really was, just like the ministry didn't know how evil Lucius really was. They were liars. And people believed it.

She had to confess though, if Draco wasn't associated at all with the dark arts then maybe, just maybe, she could admit he would be kind of appealing. He was very physically attractive, there was just no denying it, beautiful face, eyes, hair, amazing body… plus he had always been a not so distant second to Hermione in class rank. Suck up or no suck up, it did take lots of intelligence and hard work to pull that off. And it was very possible to misinterpret his arrogance as outgoingness and confidence, which she supposed were attractive qualities. No wonder naïve and young wizard girls wanted him so.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder if young Sarah herself had a little crush on Draco; she was interested in how his dates went after all. She didn't seem too jealous of Hermione though, perhaps she had come to terms with the age difference between them to know all it could be was what it was, a crush. Not to mention the station difference also put a damper on their possibilities.

Besides, for some reason Hermione got the impression that Sarah didn't hate her like the rest of the household did, in fact she seemed even to like her a bit.

"Well," said Sarah, "I'm all finished here. Since you don't really have any preferences, I hope you can trust me to see to it that your dress is beautiful."

Hermione smiled again, "Well that's very nice of you, but don't lose any sleep over it, it's not that worth it."

"I hope you change your mind when you see it, goodbye Hermione."

"Wait!" Hermione called after her.

Sarah turned and looked at her.

"Uh… do you know… what it is I am to do?" Hermione asked.

Sarah looked at her funny, "Not that I know of…"

"So I am to stay here all day?" asked Hermione, her shoulders slumping slightly.

"Well, you are allowed any where within the gates I would assume," she answered, "but I didn't really think you'd want to go to the north wing, Narcissa generally spends the day there… Although, guests your age seem to prefer the south wing anyway, most entertaining I suppose. It's a big house, and since you live here now, perhaps you'd like to do some exploring? Up to you though, I must be going." And with that Sarah left.

Hermione stood in the middle of her room, alone once again. She sighed and returned to the bathroom, where she fixed her still damp hair into two lose braids. She could only play around with her appearance for so long before it got dreadfully dull though, and she found herself once again back in her room.

Nothing to do there either. Hermione was surprised, her second day and she was honestly bored silly. "Exploring it is then," she thought as she exited.

After opening door after door, save for Draco's, Hermione discovered she shared her side of the hallway with countless guestrooms, each furnished and grandly decorated. Hers though was the biggest and most beautiful.

Across the hall, the first room she entered was some kind of study. There were tables and a large desk. The tables were cluttered with bottles of potion ingredients, vials, and cauldrons of various sizes. In the corner was practically an entire apothecary. Hermione figured Draco must do his work here, he did love potions after all.

The next room was enormous. It was filled with all kinds of entertainment, billiard and poker tables, wizard's air hockey and chess, a jukebox, dartboard and then in the corner numerous couches arranged around a large screened television in the corner. Hermione didn't even know wizards had TV and wondered what Lucius thought of the muggle invention being in the house.

Hermione ventured over to the other corner, which was a nook, designated to an icebox and cupboards and what appeared to be butterbeer on tap. She opened the shelves to find them filled with sweets, lollies, crisps and the like. In the fridge she discovered her Mountain Dew, 'So that's where the house elf put it,' she thought.

She had just decided that this room must solely exist for Draco and his friends when she heard the doorknob turn.

Not sure why, Hermione felt the urge to hide. If it were Draco, surely it would anger him that she was in _his_ rec room. She darted to a door that she thought was a closet, but it actually was an entrance to a completely different room. She swung around and closed the door, pushing her body against it. Boys' voices could be heard entering the rec room.

"…Should've been at Blaise's last night. Pansy got so piss drunk, she was all over him, slobbering even. But then she'd suddenly start crying and even asked him if she could call him 'Draco'," Hermione recognized Crabbe's voice.

"It was a riot," said what sounded like Goyle, "Don't worry though, Blaise didn't touch her. He'd never do that to you… want to play some chess?"

"No," Hermione heard Draco, "I'm not too keen on winning within two minutes every time, thanks. And just for the record, I could give a rat's ass if Blaise had Pansy; she's not really my girl alright?"

"Alright," said Goyle apprehensively.

Draco spoke again, more firmly in order to stress his seriousness over his disdain for Pansy, something his peers couldn't seem to get through their thick skulls, "Even if I didn't have to take the muggle out last night, I still wouldn't have gone to Blaise's lame party."

"Oh yeah," said Crabbe, "I saw the photo in the Prophet! How was it really?"

'Photo in the Prophet?' thought Hermione, but then continued to listen, crouching down to peer through the keyhole, surprisingly interested in Draco's account of the evening.

"Boring," said Draco.

"Boring?" repeated Crabbe, "Will she not let you snog with her?"

"I didn't try," said Draco hastily.

"Why not?" spat Goyle, sounding shocked, "You can't be with any other chick."

"So?" Draco asked, "Sometimes none is better than some."

Goyle chuckled, "Yeah right Draco, like you can go a week without a shag."

"For Merlin's sake, its Hermione Granger," Draco stressed, angry he had the reputation of such a one-minded sex addict.

"Yeah, and she's hot," said Crabbe earnestly, "what's the matter? Too feisty?"

Goyle turned to Crabbe and they nodded to each other in agreement that that must be it.

"Maybe you can chain her down," Goyle suggested.

"Don't be an idiot;" said Draco, "She's not even that feisty really. Nothing funny will be happening between me and Granger."

Crabbe shook his head disapprovingly, "She's all you got mate…and I make that sound like a bad thing…but really, I wouldn't mind if she were made to be my wife, I'd just mute jinx the sexy little thing and then…"

Hermione stifled a retch and covered her ears; she didn't want to know what disgusting thing he was going to say. By the time she brought her hands back down she could hear Draco, his voice slightly raised,

"…Admit that she is, but nothing will happen and that's final! I'll play along in public but that's all."

Admit that she was what?

Wait, what did she care? 'I'm being stupid,' she thought as she got up, ashamed of herself for eavesdropping. She turned away from the door to find that she was in a large exercise room. Hermione smirked at the weightlifting equipment and then turned to leave the room out of its formal door, nearly tripping over a basketball.

She picked it up and observed it, thinking it odd that it would be in this house, she looked up to see the hoop. Absent-mindedly she took a shot and it bounced off the rim. She chuckled; she had never been a good shot.

She continued her self-tour down the hall, going away from the room where Draco and his cronies were. She came to large double doors at the end of the hall. Nothing could prepare her for what she was about to enter into.

Shelf after towering self of books consumed the vaulted vast room, overflowing with books. Hermione didn't know whether to curse the Malfoy's for having yet another undeserving feature of her dream house or to thank her luck that she had found a room that would help her keep her sanity while she was held captive.

In the end, she didn't think at all, but ran up to a shelf again and began to read the titles. All kinds of countless classic wizard literature and history… Hermione felt like she was a character in her favorite muggle Disney film, the library was certainly straight out of Beauty and the Beast.

"Oh jeez," she said out loud, overwhelmed at the selection and realizing it would take her forever to pick her first book…

… … …

"There you are!" yelled Draco, after barging into the library, discovering her sitting in the bay window, surrounded by bags of licorice and potato crisps house-elves had brought her throughout the day, her nose unsurprisingly in a book.

Hermione lowered her book and looked up at Draco with wide eyes. Suddenly she realized she had been in the library for hours, the sunlight she had sat in was lowered down to just over the hills about to disappear, it must have been well into the evening.

"Come on!" he roared, "We're supposed to be having dinner."

"I- I lost track of time," she tried to explain her honest mistake.

"No excuses, just hurry up!" he growled. Once again Hermione found herself trying to keep up with Draco's stride. He entered into the dining room just as Lucius was leaving, looking very fowl.

He leered at Hermione, "Dinner is at seven, too stupid to tell time muggle?"

Hermione said nothing, but no one could avoid the sting of being yelled at, or being called stupid. She looked down at the floor, these people would never be understanding to the fact that she had just made a mistake, that was obvious by they way that they so excitedly blew it out of proportion.

"The table has been cleared," Lucius said dully to Draco as he pushed past him and left.

"Thanks a lot, now he's pissed at me too," Draco sneered at Hermione.

"Why?" she asked, confused by the fact that he wasn't the one who had lost track of time.

"Because it took me all of dinner to bloody find you!"

"I'm sorry," she felt obligated to say even though she was peeved it was being made into such a big deal, "I had no idea you were all so obsessed with eating dinner together."

"Well we never used to be," Draco said, "we haven't eaten together if there wasn't a guest since I was four, until this whole wholesome family image bullshit came about."

"What?" asked Hermione.

"Nothing," said Draco dismissing it, "Are you hungry?"

"A little," Hermione confessed, having not eaten anything besides junk food since breakfast.

"Follow me then…" said Draco walking through the dining room and going out another door.

Hermione discovered Draco had led her into the kitchen where a few house elves were standing on stools doing dishes. Draco seemed to ignore them as he removed a few items from the fridge.

Apparently Draco had a few instances in the past, and had trained all the house elves to let him go about his business without trying to assist him. Although they were obedient, Hermione could see them look longingly at Draco out of the corner of their eyes, some gave little muffled squeaks, secretly wanting to do it for him. Hermione found it surprising that he would choose to take care of himself over letting a slave do it for him.

"What do you like on your sandwich?" he said, pulling out some bread.

Hermione had to make sure she heard his offer right, "Will you get in trouble for feeding me?" she asked.

"Well only if we get caught," he said, slicing a tomato, "but usually once Lucius goes to bed he's up there for the night,"

"Oh," she said, "Well then I'll have whatever you're having," she said, not wanting to be an inconvenience.

"I like sprouts on my sandwich…" he said clarifying, "with guacamole and turkey."

"That's fine," said Hermione, still a little uncomfortable but slightly shrugging her shoulders, "that sounds quite good actually…" she added after thinking about it.

Draco said nothing but continued to make the sandwiches in silence. Hermione looked about the stainless steal kitchen. It appeared as if it could prepare enough food for 200 guests if need be. He slid the sub sandwich across the counter on its plate to her.

"Milk?" he said.

"Ice water?" asked Hermione.

Draco vaguely nodded as Hermione tried her sandwich; it was so good. She wanted to tell him but felt awkward, so instead she just took more bites. He slid her water over to her as well and sat down, still not really talking. He pulled the Daily Prophet over to himself and shuffled through it. After pulling out the Quidditch scores he shoved the rest of the paper away from himself. Hermione very slowly reached for the rest of the paper and pulled it over to herself.

"Muggle Protection Act still sparking controversy, predictions of its passing still speculations" Hermione read… 'Damn traitors,' she thought, they being the only reason the act was taking so long to pass. Who would vote no on such a bill unless they were a death eater! The corruption and propaganda made her sick so she pulled the front page out, setting it on the counter, eyeing Draco who was still eating and reading himself.

Her attention was then drawn to the variety section of the Daily Prophet, more specifically the sleazy gossip column, where there was a picture of… _HER?_ Instantly she realized this is what Crabbe or Goyle had been talking about and began to read the article.

"Draco Malfoy, heir to Lucius Malfoy, was spotted out with a very interesting date Friday evening at Cyrus's Circus hot spot Casa de Amore. The lucky lady was no other than Hermione Granger, who, like Draco, was a fellow former top student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, only specifically more famous for her magical talents despite her _muggle_ heritage. The sizzling duo truly prove that opposites do attract, having had attended rival houses (Gryffindor and of course Slytherin) while in school yet still romancing.

The couple was seen dining in style and while the date was very innocent and wholesome (at least in the public eye?) the two were seen engaged in very intense conversation with heads close, expressions serious and voices low.

And what does Lucius Malfoy (who, although nothing was proven, has a history of being pure-prejudice) think of his son's stunningly beautiful new muggle-born interest? It is unknown at this time if the prestigious papa is furious, but with such a public debut it can confidently be assumed that he is aware of the situation and may perhaps even be a muggle advocate? More to come on the hot twosome as well Lucius's political and personal stances next month during our thorough report of the Ministry State of the Union Convention."

Hermione's head swam with new information.

She was mentioned in the paper.

After not being heard from in nine months, now suddenly she was in the paper.

Not only would the Order see that she was alive, but also free (in a way) from Voldemort's prison. Surely if they wanted to find her they'd know right where to look. It really was only a matter of time before they would rescue her. Hermione could barely contain herself inside her skin. She was far too lost in her thoughts to feel Draco's eyes on her. He watched her for a long while, almost spacing out.

"I see you've found that article," He finally said suddenly.

Startled Hermione's face began to grow hot, as if she had just been caught stealing. "Yeah," she managed to say, quickly shoving the paper closed so he wouldn't think she was dwelling on it, "it's weird," she added, shrugging her shoulders, trying to control her heartbeat. Feeling his eyes still on her, she decided to act mellow, (which was so difficult since she was so unbelievably excited for the Order to see the article) and attempted to scan the other headlines….

"Five more arrested for muggle attacks", she absent-mindedly read, "Azkaban prisoner Karkaroff makes parole" "Fudge to attend united magical nations conference with determination to stop muggle terrorism"….

Wait.

'Karkaroff to be released?' she thought, her stomach turning at the sound of the name as she frantically re-read the headline.

"You finished then?" asked Draco, looking at the heel of Hermione's sandwich, which she hadn't touched in over five minutes. Hermione looked at Draco's plate, which was just crumbs, and realized he was ready to leave.

"Uh, yes…" she stammered, now stark white in the face, "Thank you," she added as she tried to slyly put the paper under her arm, as if she was going to return to her room with it on accident.

"Well we better go to bed then, we've got stuff we're supposed to do tomorrow."

"Okay…" said Hermione, nervous and not really listening to what he just said.

As they walked back to the south wing it turns out Hermione was much more paranoid than necessary, Draco paid no mind to the newspaper under Hermione's arm, because he too was lost in thought.

Once again they said nothing to each other as they went into their rooms.

She shut her door and ran to her bed. After flopping herself down she hastily unfolded the paper to the article.

"Brusto Karkaroff made his parole meeting earlier this week, and is scheduled to be released sometime next month. This controversial release was approved by the Ministry of Magic Wizemganot. Karkaroff, brother of former Durmstrang headmaster Igor Karkaroff (who is still missing), was arrested for manslaughter which was a bargain down from first degree murder with the use of magic after Kararoff's attorney successfully convinced the jury the gruesome act was out of self defense and temporary insanity.

"The man came across an intruder in his house and thought his only son to be dead," his attorney stated, "What would you have done?"

There are still some uncertain ministry officials who feel Karkaroff, who has a history of: unproven death eating conspiracy, affiliation with the Russian Magical Mafia, assault, forgery, identity theft, and money laundering, is dangerous and being let out too early.

"He has only served half of his sentence; he clearly has not paid back his full debt to society after murdering an otherwise innocent man. With the suspicion of bribery that should've have been further investigated the case should've never been closed!" said a frantic Author Weasley, ministry worker, "Especially since there is clear evidence of other persons still unknown being at the scene of the crime and the motives of Podmore still not certain. There's just too many unnerving loose ends to let this man back out into the wizarding world, I do not care how charismatic he was to his parole hearers."

The horrendous incident in question took place nearly nine months ago during one of Kararoff's famous business parties when Karkaroff said he was investigating a ruckus in his son's quarters, only to discover Sturgis Podmore standing over his passed out son, where Karkaroff used an unforgivable curse against him. Kararoff's son, Ivan, was not dead, but merely knocked out with no recollection of what happened. He is now a permanent dimwit due to an intense stupefying. The persons unknown speculated to be at the scene of the crime have never been discovered nor come forward and there have been rumors of evidence gone missing.

Three months prior to his conviction of magical manslaughter Brusto spent one evening in jail after being suspected of espionage involving a Ministry of Magic employee. Clyde Baggins, a Counter for the ministry, was suspected as passing confidential information to Brusto Karkaroff and was thereby fired despite proof while Brusto was released without further charges.

"It was all a horrible misunderstanding," a remorseful Karkaroff was quoted to say after his release was announced, "Now I just want to put it behind me, and return home to be with my son.""

Hermione dropped the paper from her hand, letting it fall from the side of the bed and flutter to the floor. She tilted her head back and tightly closed her eyes, but the silent tears escaped anyway.

The mention of that pig Ivan made her skin crawl and she was almost glad she had rendered him nearly brain-dead after what he tried to do to her. Overcome with sick mourning, she cried for poor dead Order member Sturgis Podmore, who was the first to try and save her, only to die in the stand off the rest of the wizarding world knew nothing about.

Then the tears kept coming, because she just didn't know what to think anymore. Why hadn't Harry been there? And why hasn't she heard from him since?

All things she'd have to find out later when they would rescue her, she painfully accepted, not wanting to wait any longer to find out what really happened.

… … …

_ ………"I will NOT argue with you anymore Harry," Hermione heard Lupin declare loudly and firmly, despite the fighting going on a whole floor beneath her, "They are not apart of this particular mission and that is final!"_

_ "BUT WE'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR THEM TOO!" Harry yelled._

_ "I am AWARE of our goals young Potter, but we are not prepared at this juncture to go after both, its dangerous enough as it is and finding out what Brusto is up to is a higher priority!"_

_ Hermione could only imagine the look that must have come over Harry's face upon hearing that. Surely Lupin must have felt terrible about it too; telling Harry Potter finding the murderer of his Godfather wasn't the Order's highest priority. Their argument had been going all day, it was well into the evening, everyone else had gone to bed but the fight was still going on strong. It seemed to Hermione that it was about to reach it's worse. She was surprised then, by Harry's quieter volume._

_ "We don't even know if Brusto has done anything," Harry said in an eerie firm yet shaky voice, "but we do know the Lestranges' ARE guilty."_

_ "Harry," said Lupin, the discomfort in his voice obvious, "please trust me, I have an overwhelming feeling that if we get Brusto, we get them all. You just have to be patient."_

_ "I've been waiting since I was a baby," he answered back. _

_ "I know Harry, you know I know that." Lupin was quiet for a moment before speaking again, "Perhaps Professor Snape should take your place on this mission, I don't think this particular one is for you."_

_ Silence followed. Hermione pressed more firmly against the extendable ear on the floor. Harry must've been at a loss of words to Lupin's statement._

_ Suddenly, there was noise outside of her door instead of below her. She quickly dived back into her bed and closed her eyes just as it creaked open._

_ "Hermione?" said a soft feminine voice, one she hadn't heard call for her in days now._

_ "Ginny," said Hermione, turning to see her._

_ Her eyes were large and glassy. It made Hermione sick with guilt and remorse, feelings that had followed her since Harry had first kissed her a few weeks ago. As Ginny's best friend she knew perfectly well that even though Ginny told everyone else she didn't like Harry in that way anymore and even tried to prove it by dating other boys that deep down she still did._

_Ginny herself had confided in Hermione many times, fretting over her inability to get over him. She'd always say just when she had finally stopped thinking about him he'd do something flirty towards her again and trick her into thinking there were possibilities. But, being Harry's best friend as well she knew Harry only flirted with her out of harmless boredom, not realizing his full affect._

_If anything he considered her too much of a child, rendering her crush on him childish and harmless. He never met to hurt Ginny by making a move on Hermione, he didn't even think it would bother her as much as it did. But even after he was aware of it, it surprised Hermione how it didn't stop him from wanting to be with her again. She didn't mean for it happen after all, it just did. If only Hermione could tell Ginny how sorry she was and have Ginny feel how much she meant it… she had to at least try to convey it to her…_

_ "Ginny I'm-", Hermione started._

_ "Oh shhh," interrupted Ginny, "It's going to be-" she tried to say but paused, swallowing what would've been a sob, "I think it's going to be alright…" she stifled awkwardly again. She was determined to say what she had to say without going to pieces. "I want it to be alright between us," she clearly concluded._

_ "Oh Ginny," said Hermione, biting her lip from crying as Ginny kneeled at her bed and the two old friends hugged in the dark bedroom ………_

… … …

A disgruntled looking young man stepped into a dingy small diner just off an outskirted cobblestone alley of Hogsmeade as the sun was dipping down into the hills. He ruffled his long untidy stoplight yellow hair, pushing it down against his forehead in vain as he hastily took a seat at a barstool.

"You need to charm your hair again," said Cleo, the young waitress who worked there, "your dark roots are showing."

The young man rolled his green eyes at her in response.

"So will Gandalf the Grey be joining you anytime soon?" asked the sarcastic server.

"Yeah," answered the boy, "He just has to have a few words with McGonagall up at the castle, he should be here any minute."

"Two specials then." Cleo said, not even waiting for a nod of agreement and walked back into the kitchen.

Alone in the quiet dining area, he reached down the bar for a newspaper. It was a day old, like always, and all the good sections were missing.

Agitated, like he always was lately, he ruffled the paper and began to read, pulling a cup of coffee up to his lips.

"Dang nab it!" cried Cleo from the back when she heard the coffee cup shatter loudly on the floor.

"I don't go breaking all your dishes do I Pot-", Cleo stopped when she saw how wide Harry's eyes were.

Mouth gaping, Harry Potter was looking at a picture of Hermione Granger sitting at a restaurant table with Draco Malfoy.


	9. Another pleasant date

"Miss Hermione, Miss Hermione!" squeaked Busby frantically. "You must please get up Miss Hermione!"

Hermione groaned and rolled over, having slept most horribly.

"Master Malfoy is waiting Miss Hermione!"

Hermione popped open one eye; the sun was barely entering in through her curtains. It must have been very early.

"Please, Miss Hermione, get up and get ready, then meet Master Malfoy in the north wing."

Zombie like, Hermione walked to the shower and then, a little more awake from the cold water, disappeared into the closet. She emerged in a pleated black skirt and slim fitting gray v-neck, a white tank top visible beneath the collar.

"Quickly please!" Bubsy squeaked again. "The north wing."

Hermione made a brisk walk through the halls of the mansion wondering what she would have to endure today. She tried to shrug off how tired she was, having had horrible, sad dreams all night despite the magnificent bed.

Once in the foyer she made her way up one of the grand, curved stair cases. Lucius appeared at the top, and began to talk extremely fast.

"Listen carefully," he barked as he fixed his hair in a mirror hanging on the hall wall, "You love working for me, you've been too busy to answer any owls, you miss your grandmother terribly, she had uh… brain cancer and if they ask about Draco just smile and say 'that's a little personal'. Oh, and look happy and cute. Do me wrong Granger and you WILL regret it, _understand_?"

"Uh…" said Hermione, utterly confused. Then there was a chime from the door.

"Merlin, they're here already," declared Lucius, "Come with me," and he placed his hand on her shoulder and led her down the stairs. Hermione could see a house elf opening the door and a small group of professionally dressed wizards were standing on the stoop, a couple equipped with cameras.

"Welcome to my home," cried Lucius cheerfully as they came to the landing, "I'm honored to have you! I must apologize, I was just having a brief word with Miss Granger…" A blonde bug-like woman who had been smiling huge suddenly began writing frantically on a pad of parchment… "I wished to be ready to invite you in but Miss Granger is quite a distraction, I'd heed her call any time of day."

Hermione's face dropped and she almost burst out laughing, did Lucius say he'd heed her call any day? Suddenly, it all made sense… the woman… Merlin, it was Rita Skeeter.

Rita must have seen the look of recognition on Hermione's face and she smiled maliciously. The two hadn't seen each other since she blackmailed her into the Quibbler article. But to Hermione's surprise, she spoke quite friendly to her.

"Oh it's quite alright Mr. Malfoy, we understand you're a busy man, pleasure to meet you Miss Granger," said Rita, lying and extending her hand, having had met Hermione before.

"Now, please tell me, how is it working for a man like Lucius?"

"Uh…" said Hermione, "I like it very much," realizing the point of Lucius's instructions. Without thinking she repeated what she was told to avoid punishment.

"Ah, yes," said Lucius smiling at Hermione, "you've interned as my secretary for what now? Has it been nine months already? Why, it's been such a joy I can't believe it's almost over!" Rita was busy scribbling down everything Lucius said as a camera man got a picture of Lucius with his arm still around Hermione.

"What made you want to intern for Lucius if I may ask?" said Rita.

Lucius gripped her shoulder, nervous for he had not prepared her with an answer, "Oh well I've always been interested in working for the Ministry someday," said Hermione, thinking off the top of her head, "and Lucius was gracious enough to show me the ropes."

Lucius chuckled and faked a modest shrug, "Well I just remember her first day, she looked so determined and dignified yet they had her filing papers in the back, it was despicable. I had heard of her academic accomplishments like so many of us have, so I said 'I want that ambitious young women working for me'", said Lucius, shaking a pointed finger, "and well after I heard about the tragic incident with her poor grandmother…" said Lucius, his face turning somber.

"Grandmother?" interrupted Rita.

"Yes," said Lucius softly, "Diagnosed with a tumor in her brain right before Hermione's 6th year. Hermione, the angel, decided to be home schooled just to be with her until her last days."

Rita insincerely puckered her lips, "Do you miss her Hermione?" she asked earnestly.

"Yes, terribly," said Hermione robotically, her real grandmother having died before she had even been born. She felt Lucius's grip on her tighten and she panicked…. "But there's not a day I don't think of her…" Hermione added softly, "I know she's watching over me." Rita's quill began to scribble at rapid speed. She felt Lucius's approval from behind her.

"Unfortunately the medical bills were quite high and her family found themselves in quite a financial situation." Lucius went on, "Hermione almost had to cut her internship short to return to her muggle home instead of living in the apartment she was renting through the Ministry… too expensive you know. But I just didn't want to see that happen. Long story short she's been staying here ever since! She's completely revolutionized the way my office is run, I'm bloody organized let me tell you!"

Rita and her camera men chuckled mirthfully with Lucius.

"So the internship wasn't just some ploy to get close to young Mr. Malfoy then?" Rita asked smirking.

Hermione giggled nervously but inward she was furious. She could not believe what was happening, in a matter of moments Lucius had come up with a heartwarming story of her whereabouts for the last two years that surely everyone would believe without question. Not only that but Rita Skeeter of all people was back to reporting on the Daily Prophet! The same woman who, just years ago, was reporting how ugly Hermione was, and there Hermione was, forced to smile and nod in polite kindness to the ghastly women. Suddenly Draco appeared carrying a picnic basket.

"Father," he said smiling broadly, going into his side for a hug, the camera flashing like mad. "Good morning. Is the interview today? I can't believe I'd forgotten. I'll certainly get out of your hair…"

Hermione couldn't believe her eyes. Although Draco was a convincing actor, Hermione could tell he was not himself.

"It's quite alright Draco," said Rita, "We were just chatting with your _girlfriend_."

Draco's face remained in the same plastic smile but Hermione saw the flicker in his eyes. "Really?' he said sweetly, "Well that's good."

"Were you surprised?" asked Rita out of the blue, "That your father_ approved_?"

Lucius's face flashed an angry red for a brief moment, and then he appeared to pout.

"Now really Rita," he said whimsically, "That hurts me, really it does. I don't know where things got so skewed but I have never been in favor of purification of the wizarding race, but merely in favor of ridding our fair world of mongrel disrespectful renegade wizards, of any blood, who don't earn they're keep nor respect the integrity of magic. Talented, hardworking and dignified wizards like Hermione here is what I hope everyone in the wizarding world evolves to, I would've hoped you of all people would've known that."

"Well that's what I'm here to report Lucius, surely you understand."

"Well father," said Draco, "Hermione and I are off to our picnic."

"Alright then," said Lucius, smiling again, "Have fun you two."

"Just one moment if you would," said Rita desperately, "Hermione, you wouldn't have any information about your long time best friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley or their whereabouts would you?"

Lucius's face turned stern, as did Draco's.

"Harry and Ron?" repeated Hermione, "Oh, wow… I've just been so busy, I can't recall the last time we've owled."

Rita looked extremely disappointed.

"Now Rita," said Lucius again, "I know my family is incredibly charming, and as there may be _some very interesting information_ about them perhaps revealing itself within the next few days, but as I recall we're here today to hear about the plans I have for my department. Now if you'd be so kind as to step into my study we can proceed as planned…"

Hermione and Draco subtly bowed their good byes and Draco led Hermione back down the hall as the camera man took a few last pictures of them together.

… … …

"That was absolutely disgusting," cried Hermione as she and Draco found themselves outside, walking towards a stable on the Malfoy grounds.

Draco chuckled.

"So that's why I am here?" she cried, "To change your father's image? He staged that whole thing! How disgusting!" she yelled again.

"Yeah well, what are you going to do?" said Draco, obviously not caring and walking faster through the yard.

"I can't believe I'm apart of this," Hermione said out loud, "Why me?"

"Why you?" repeated Draco, "Don't be daft, you're perfect for it."

"Excuse me?" said Hermione, hopping through the tall grass, trying to keep up with Draco.

"You're Harry Potter's best friend, you're a Gryffindor, you're… not ugly, not only can you actually do magic, but you're one of those 'proud-to-be-a-magical-muggle' people… You're a muggle icon, if Lucius can like you, then surely he likes all muggles."

Hermione let out an exasperated gasp, "People are going to believe this rubbish aren't they?" she said, thinking of how gullible the public as been in the past when it came to the Prophet, what with Sirius Black, then Harry being a crazy attention seeking whore and last but not least Fudge in his asshole days denying Voldemort getting a body back. "God, I can only imagine why your father would want people to think he liked muggles… he's going to do something terrible isn't he? I wish I were dead rather than apart of this!"

Suddenly a rushing whirl of black and white encircled Hermione, the blurry small bodies nearly knocking her down. She let out a startled scream and tried to run, but tripped over the black whirl. From her knees Hermione covered her face as their horrible open mouths began to….lick her.

Hermione started to laugh. It was a pair of beautiful Labrador dogs, a black and a white one, their tails wagging excitedly. Draco was now laughing as well.

"Midnight! Noon! Settle down!" ordered Draco.

Hermione rose to her feet, petting their silky heads as they were obedient to Draco and sat, although it was obvious it was against their will, they're bottoms still wiggling excitedly, eager to get to know the stranger.

"Come," he said and they went to him obediently, affectionately kissing his finger tips as they followed at his heels.

"What are we doing anyways?" asked Hermione, starting to follow Draco again.

"Lucius suspects Rita will send a cameraman after us, so we're supposed to be on a precious wholesome date. Horseback riding and a picnic in the woods."

Hermione looked out past the stable to the tall thick trees. It was a beautiful sunny and warm day given it was well into October, and the leaves on the trees were turning into the most beautiful array of colors. The reds and golds glistened in the sun, despite the accumulation of growing gray clouds behind them.

They finally reached the stable where house elves were brushing one of the numerous horses.

"Whichever one you'd like," said Draco, going to his horse and adjusting the saddle, "You've ridden before right?"

"Yes," said Hermione venturing down the hay laden hall, passing each of the horse filled stalls.

Draco had just attached the picnic basket to his horse, Troy, and mounted onto him when he heard a wild loud neigh and the gallop of hooves coming down through the stable hall. Hermione sat up tall in her saddle and pulled hard on the reins, barely getting the horse to stop.

"No!" cried Draco, "not that one."

Hermione was atop a magnificent, huge, smoky white horse, with a long flowing mane that seemed to glow with light. "Why not?" she asked.

"It's too wild," said Draco, "You can't handle it."

"I got on it didn't I?" said Hermione defiantly.

"By some bloody miracle that's for sure," he repeated, "he's part unicorn, we can't tame him. He doesn't listen and he's barely trained."

"What do you care?" she barked, still pulling on the reigns tightly, struggling to keep him in one place.

"If you get hurt I get hurt," Draco responded angrily.

"Well that's not much incentive for me to choose another one now is it?" said Hermione. Her horse started to go again and Hermione tried to cover up her lack of control by yelling, "Let's go!" like she was leaving the stable on purpose.

Her horse took off into the woods, as if drawn to them, and didn't slow down until they were well into the cover of the tall trees. Draco galloped up to her side on his handsome chestnut brown horse, looking foul.

"What's its name?" Hermione asked.

"Doesn't have one," he said dully.

Hermione furrowed her brow, "Then I'll just call him Mystery," she decided.

"Cute," mocked Draco, secretly thinking it was very fitting name.

Hermione looked back as she heard Midnight and Noon trot along after them.

"Your dogs followed us in to the woods," Hermione informed Draco.

He glanced down at them, "That's fine, they can handle the woods. They're out here all the time. This way," he directed, taking the left fork as they approached it.

They rode in silence further into the thick trees, the trip proving to be quite long. Draco eyed Hermione on Mystery angrily. The horse was much better-behaved for her than it had ever been for him. He looked back to see if there was indeed a cameraman assigned to them. Hermione looked back too.

"Anything?" she asked.

"Feels like it," Draco said oddly.

"Feels?" Hermione repeated.

"Hunter thing," Draco answered shortly, "Let's hurry up, I'm hungry."

The two picked up their pace, the dogs jogging to keep up. Hermione noticed the dogs comfort and stamina being out of doors, and figured with their skills, combined to Draco's behavior outdoors, with the constant calm but precise surveying and listening, that they hunted often together.

Hermione thought it strange, the image of Draco hunting, and found it hard to believe he learned from his father. The idea of them out together enjoying some genuine father and son time just didn't seem to fit their personas. She was wondering if Draco had taught himself to hunt, meaning he spent hours out here, by himself. She thought that to be a bit lonely, but didn't dwell too long on the idea, since it was so beautiful. She continued to admire the changing leaves as they galloped on.

After awhile they emerged along a clearing set against a bluff over looking a beautiful creek. The view was amazing and the lovely autumn sunshine warm. After an hour and a half of horseback, Hermione was quite tired and hungry herself.

Draco laid out a blanket on the bluff's peak and took out the picnic basket. Silently Hermione and he began to eat. The elves had packed them platters of fresh fruits and vegetables, cheeses and crackers, along with fried chicken and pasta salad.

Every once in awhile Draco or one of the dogs would pause and look slowly around, as if hearing something. Hermione just watched them in silence, assuming that Draco and the dogs hunted often in this area.

Hermione was eating carrots and sipping her wine when suddenly Draco picked a beautiful wild flower and offered it to Hermione.

"Smile," he said with little emotion, "They'll be photographing this."

His actions now explained, Hermione accepted the flower and smiled weakly.

"Perhaps they'll go now, it's a long trip back," he said.

Hermione looked at the flower for a long moment only to finally ask, "Why does he want everyone to think he likes muggles?"

"Can't say," Draco responded, looking off into the distance of the peak, reclining back onto his side, supporting himself with his elbow.

Hermione expected such an answer, "Well I hope it's not too important, whatever it may be."

"What do you mean," Draco said, looking at her while he spoke this time.

"Well I just don't want him to be terribly disappointed by his fruitless scheme when I escape."

Draco scoffed with laughter, "And how are you going to do that?" he asked, smirking,

"Can't say," Hermione mocked. Once again, Draco would've liked to laugh at her wit, but, it was her, so he held it in.

"Well be sure to let me know how it works out," is all he said.

"What happens to you specifically when I do?" she inquired.

"I get beaten and tortured by Death Eaters," Draco said blankly, looking at the bluff's edge again. "Why? Does that make you happy?" he asked boldly, looking back at her again.

"No," she said firmly, and Draco felt an odd unexplainably warm sensation in his chest. "…I don't approve of anything a Death Eater does, even if it's to another Death Eater."

The sensation disappeared. "I'm not a Death Eater," said Draco.

"Yet," replied Hermione, picking at her grapes.

Draco scoffed again, "Well just be sure to keep that in mind when you escape and squeal on my family."

"Maybe I won't even mention you," said Hermione coyly "…I mean I will mention Voldemort's lair, all the stuff I heard when he was at dinner, what really happened to Podmore, and… jeez, what am I forgetting? Oh, I'll suggest they investigate your Father's north wing, I can only imagine what must be there…" she trailed off for a moment and Draco leered at her, "But, if you were to help me out, maybe your name could be cleared and all the Death Eater's put in Azkaban before they even get the chance to touch you?"

Hermione's eyes met Draco's, who was staring intently at her. His unwavering gaze made her feel a little funny, not necessarily uncomfortable or intimidated, but his look was powerful nonetheless.

Slowly, he smiled. "Funny," he spoke, "a Gryffindor trying to bribe and manipulate a Slytherin, you'd think it would be the other way around. Sorry Granger, you were close, but not quite cunning enough."

Hermione bit her lip to hide her scowl. "We're out of school Malfoy, do houses really mean anything anymore?"

"It appears that they do," he answered. "Now let's pack up. Clouds are moving in, it's getting colder by the second."

Hermione folded up the blanket as Draco strapped the basket back onto his horse.

"Let's take the long loop back," he said, looking around as if scanning for something, "it's a bit longer but I don't want to see those reporters again when we get back…"

"Alright," answered Hermione, privately glad to enjoy the beautiful woods a bit longer.

She did exactly that as they trotted along in silence. Hermione took in the splendorous sights and smells of the gorgeous green wilderness. She had practically forgotten Draco was there, only to be reminded by catching him rolling his eyes at her from the corner of her eye.

"What?" she demanded to know, but really only paying half attention to him.

"I still can't believe that horse hasn't killed you yet," he said, referring to her horse.

Hermione caught sight of the biggest leaf she had ever seen hanging down from a branch they were about to ride under, it was a brilliant red and the size of a hubcap. She shifted in her seat to pluck it off and keep it, "I suppose he just has a good judgment of company," she boasted as she stood up in the saddle and took her wild colorful souvenir, causing the branch to pull then bounce from the leaf's release, "He just likes me."

"Yeah right," said Draco, neither of them noticing the hornets nest Hermione had just knocked off the same branch as the leaf when she bounced it, "You're just insanely lucky nothing had spooked him yet…"

Suddenly, it was Draco's horse who cried out in savage pain. Angry neighs escaped from his mouth as he reared up on his hind legs and Draco's eyes grew wide as he took strong hold of the reins. He barely managed to conclude his horse had been stung as a swarm of hornets started to rise around him.

Hermione spotted the destroyed hive near the hooves of Draco's horse just as it bulleted down the path, it's hind quarters stinging and too spooked to take orders.

Immediately Hermione urged her horse to follow Draco's, who by then was out of sight.

Mystery, who was exceedingly fast, managed to catch up to Draco and his renegade ride as they were about to crash into a tree trunk that had fallen across the path. A second too late the horse attempted to jump it but knocked it's legs, tipping to it's side, causing Draco to fly off, both hitting the ground and rolling awkwardly. Only Draco continued to roll, as he was flung to a steep hill covered in dead leaves on the side of the path. Hermione heard his grunts as he undoubtedly rolled over rocks.

Mystery skidded to a halt just barely missing crashing in to the same tree trunk and Hermione jumped off and ran after where Draco disappeared down the hill.

She found him lying on his back, grimacing and clutching his ribs. She fell to her knees beside him and tried to see what he was holding.

"Oh my," she cried, shaking, "Are you alright!"

He sharply inhaled as Hermione pulled his hand away, revealing a slash to his upper side, a branch scratching him through his robes and clothing.

"Oh no," she uttered, looking grim, "I'm so sorry," she pleaded, "I didn't know about the nest I swear, I swear," she was shaking her head.

"Granger…" he said faintly, trying to rise. Hermione didn't know whether to let him sit up or not. He saw that her hands were shaking and he was extremely surprised at her concern. She looked as though she was going to assist him to a sitting position but then stopped.

"I'm sorry," she said again, "It was an accident, are you ok? Maybe I can heal you."

Draco's other hand went to his hip, pinning his wand to him from inside his pocket, guarding it from her.

"I only want to help," said Hermione, more desperate and scared looking.

"Granger…" he said again.

"I wasn't going to do anything," she said frantically, trying to explain her request for his wand. "Don't get up, I can bandage you… don't move!" she demanded again.

"Hermione!" he finally yelled, getting her to freeze. "I'm going to be fine" he spoke again more softly, "I've been thrown off a horse before you know!"

Hermione sighed with relief, "It really was an accident you know, I didn't mean to knock down the nest…. now let me help you."

"No," said Draco earnestly, holding tighter to his scratch.

"But I just want to fix you, it was an accident I swear!"

"I believe you already!" Draco yelled, "why are you having kittens?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed, "You may get beaten if anything happens to me, but I get _killed_ if anything happens to you!" she finally cried, "Lucius will never believe I didn't mean to!"

Draco looked up at her as she loomed over him. So that's why she cared, she was eager to fix the damage she caused so she wouldn't get into trouble. Not understanding the feeling that came over him Draco just laid back on the leaves.

"There's a kit in the saddle bag," he said quietly, scowling.

Hermione returned in a matter of seconds with a bag full of potion remedies and her canteen. She unfastened his robes and then paused, deliberating. Finally deciding pulling up his shirt would disturb the wound, she ripped off his shirt. Draco didn't have much time to analyze what that was like because she poured water over the cut making it sting.

He closed his eyes tight and breathed deep. He was surprised when Hermione took his hand to squeeze and lowered her face dangerously close to his bare chest and gently blew on the cut to ease the stinging. He was also surprised that she knew exactly which potion to use, and she gently applied it when she was done rising the cut with water. Finally she pulled bandages out of the kit and wrapped him methodically around his rib cage, her hands soft and warm. She was quite the nurse.

"Can you get up?" she asked.

"No," said Draco.

Hermione's eyes grew wide, "Why not?" she pleaded to know.

"Because you're sitting on my legs." He said matter-of-factly.

Hermione frowned and stood up. Draco slowly rose to his feet and dismissed her offer for help back up the hill.

They reached the path and Draco's horse seemed to cower in front of him, avoiding direct contact.

"Yeah, that's right," said Draco, "Be ashamed. It was a measly hornet for crying out loud!"

Hermione couldn't help but smile at Draco's lighthearted attitude towards his horse bucking him off. Troy slowly went to Draco, putting his face into Draco's chest, where Draco stroked the side of his mouth. Hermione had expected Draco to be furious due to his embarrassing injury, but shockingly he wasn't that bad.

"How's your arse?" he asked the horse with joking sincere concern as he refastened his robe over his ripped shirt. His horse whinnied and Draco smiled softly.

"Should I let you ride me back home then? Or do you think you can manage?"

The horse snorted and stomped his front hooves, causing Draco to laugh. He looked back at Hermione, who Mystery had walked to; she was softly stroking his nose. His smile disappeared and shook his head as he mounted onto his horse. Hermione did the same, thinking Draco was sour with her.

Finally he said to her, "I can't believe my horse was the one to spook at that exact moment, what perfect timing he's got," he was shaking his head again and a small smile returned.

Hermione smiled to and was about to let out a gratuitous laugh only she was interrupted by an unexpected, loud, shrill, inhuman cry.

Frightened, she turned to look behind her to see where the terrifying nose came from, but Mystery had already bolted, ironically being the one to spook that time.

Far faster than Draco's horse, Mystery was gone in a flash, Hermione barely able to hold on. They disappeared around the bend when Draco commanded his horse to follow.

He pursued them for a long time, never able to catch up and grab hold of Mystery's reins. They neared the curve of the path, and Draco began to panic. He knew the terrain well, and the turn there was sharp, the edge of the bluff extremely close.

He was right to be concerned, because Mystery didn't steer sharp enough to make the turn of the curving path. Draco witnessed Hermione, still on Mystery's back, and Mystery, skid off the edge of the bluff. Hermione's scream mixed with the cry of the horse and then there was the crashing splash noise of large objects hitting water.


	10. Survival Skills

Thinking quickly, Draco backed his horse up and hastily but carefully steered it down a steep leafy hill full of stumbling rocks, branches and divots.

He merged finally from the side close to the vertical wall of the cliff; there was very little shore between the wild, wide creek and the bluff.

He saw Mystery walk out of the water, shaking out his mane. His eyes scanned the creek, to find Hermione frantically trying to swim to shore, her robe weighing her down.

Draco jumped off his horse and ran into the water, only to feel the sharp sting of its surprisingly icy temperature. The fading warm sun was very deceiving; the October water was remarkably freezing. He bared it up to his knees and reached out for Hermione, who had made it so close but appeared to be giving up her trudge to the shore. He pulled her hands to him, lifting her upper half out of the creek. She looked at him through squinted eyes and immediately Draco could tell she wasn't well, perhaps having knocked her head on a rock at the bottom of the creek when she fell.

He dragged her out of the water but she was unable to stand, her knees collapsing under her.

"Granger?" he asked, hoping she would show signs of response.

Her eyelids merely fluttered and her head rolled to her shoulder.

"Hermione!" Draco tried again, lightly and quickly slapping her cheek. Draco began to panic; she obviously had hypothermia or severe stress or a similar bout.

He pulled out his wand to instantly dry her then start a fire, only to his horror, discover that it was spilt down the middle and barely hanging together. He must have damaged it in his own tumble when Troy bucked him off. This would have a grave affect on what he could do to make sure Hermione was okay.

Desperately trying to recall everything he knew about woodsmen-ship and what to do during emergencies; he looked at his horse and Mystery, both very sore and exhausted. He surveyed the way he came down, and knew the horses couldn't make it back up that way. The other option was to loop around the bluff and then climb it when it became a steep hill, which was unfortunately a few miles away.

With gray clouds rolling in and the sun setting since it was now shifting into the evening, Hermione would surely freeze to death by the time they made it home. He had no choice. He must keep her as dry and warm as he could until help came.

Without much thought he carried her over to a half circle-like curve in the bluff wall and sat her down there, hoping the rock walls would block the rousing wind from chilling her even more. She shuddered, her breathing very shallow and her lips blue, and slid down to her side, completely out of it, basically unconscious.

"Midnight," Draco cried, as he knelt down by Hermione, "GO! Retrieve Lucius! GO! Good boy!" he yelled as Midnight took off running back the way they had come.

Draco, observing Hermione, decided the water's coldness was too traumatic for someone recently released from prison, her physical state still too weak to handle the shock of the stress and excursion.

He unfastened Hermione's sopping wet robe and tossed it aside. He pulled off the clinging tight gray shirt, then her shoes and gray knee-highs, leaving Hermione in a tank top and skirt. Frantically he got up and went to his horse, tugging out the blanket they had brought for the picnic and rushed back over to the cove in the bluff past Noon, who was watching with interest.

He laid it out in front of Hermione and then removed his own robe and flung it over her shoulders, meanwhile hastily running his hands speedily over the skin of her arms trying to create heat with the friction, evaporating any moisture that may have remained on her. Realizing her hair had absorbed a lot of cold water and was still dripping it on to her, he took a handful and squeezed it the best he could. He ran back to his saddled bag and removed a bandana.

Back at Hermione, he sloppily bundled her hair up and tied it to her head, hoping that with it away from her skin she might be able to warm up. Then he pulled the hood of his robe over her head and fastened the front of it. He picked her limp body back up and set her into the blanket, then rolled it around her. He looked back at her, she was still shuddering and had cold sweat, her forehead was feverish and her eyelids fluttered.

"Noon," he called, "Lay down," he pointed to Hermione's feet, knowing the head and feet where the two main areas from which heat escaped. Noon obeyed and Draco ran back to the saddle bag, pulling out some potions. He eagerly hoped that what he was looking for was there.

"Liquid Brimstone!' he declared out loud, shaking it, and then frowning, realizing not much was left. He ran into the woods, frantically looking for a bur oak tree. He sighted one and hastily grabbed a handful of its leaves returning once again to the cove where he had laid Hermione.

Desperately he arranged the specific leaves, hoping they were still alive enough to activate the reaction with the potion. He managed a small flame when he poured the concoction onto his leaf pile, to which he had to feed kindling and more leaves. He was amazed with himself as he got it to grow, and quickly ran away for wood to burn.

Luckily he practically stumbled upon a dry fallen trunk, which he dragged back over to the small fire, along with a handful of longer thinner sticks under one arm. He dropped the bundle of longer pieces of wood and stomped on the dry trunk where it easily broke into chunks. He placed one into his flames and they greedily ate the log. Draco breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at what he had created without a wand. He grinned at his success as he watched it grow into a healthy stable fire but then instantly started to worry again if it would be enough.

He looked down at Hermione, who was still blue and shivering. It was no wonder too, since without his robe and his shirt being ribbed down the middle Draco, who was far drier than she, was also cold. Draco opened the blanket he had rolled her in and laid down next to her, tucking the blanket snuggly around them. He scooted her till her back was to the fire, its heat hopefully drying her hair, and the dog still at her feet.

Her clingy wet tank top chilled his chest and abs as he pulled her closer to him, but soon his heat over powered the cold sensation, hopefully conducting the warm energy into Hermione. He found himself sliding his arm under her neck and pulling her tightly onto him, making her murmur something inaudibly. Then she wrapped her arms around his free forearm in a delusion, pulling his arm onto her chest, probably instinctually sensing his natural warmth and body heat.

Draco's heart finally began to steady its pace as Hermione stopped shaking violently and seemed to fall asleep, the pinkness returning to her lips, her skin no longer gray. Her face mere inches from his, and her feminine frame pressed against his body, Draco realized as mentally tough and brave as she was, little Hermione was more fragile than she seemed. Draco knew if he had not helped her, she would have died.

He hated the thought and dismissed it quickly. She was going to be fine; he had made sure of that.

Now that he was relaxed, he realized how stressed and exhausted he was as well, and with the heat of their blanket roll-up, Draco too drifted off to sleep, Hermione snuggled right against him.

In a faint glimmer of good fortune, it did not rain and the clouds passed. Draco had successfully managed to keep Hermione warm, so much that she was now well enough to maintain her own heat and sometime during the night the two rolled away from each other, now only sharing the bubble of warmth the blanket enclosed. The dog, uncomfortable from the fire had crawled away and laid on his own.

The horses were making some sort of disgruntled noise when Draco awoke. He felt Hermione's forehead, she didn't seem feverish, but healthily warm. With her no longer shaking or murmuring, he concluded it would be safe if he left the shared blanket and saw what was wrong with the horses, who were sounding more nervous and skittish with each passing second.

Hermione recalled first awaking due to the gust of cool air that touched her when Draco got up. She wearily watched him walk out of the cove towards the creek through the fire light, her head pounding with ache, realizing that they had been sharing the close proximity of the blanket. Still exhausted, she rolled over and hazily wondered why she was so undressed when she re-closed her eyes.

Suddenly she heard that horrible shriek once again, the sound that had spooked Mystery into taking off over the bluff in the first place. Then she heard Draco cry out from shock and in a flash she was up out of the blanket.

It was very early in the morning, the sun having not risen yet. She squinted through dimness and saw Draco cover the back of his neck, squatting near the ground, as a horrible huge beast hovered above him, flapping its wide black wings, resembling a massively huge bat. She cursed herself for not recognizing the sound when she had heard it the first time.

The beast lowered and positioned himself to fly right into Draco. It intended to scoop him up and carry him off into the distance, where it could sink its teeth into his neck and feast on Draco's blood in peace. But when it made its dive something crashed into Draco from the side, knocking him out of the way.

Like an eagle missing a field mouse, the beast clutched his talon feet and screeched angrily. It turned around in the air and stared at Hermione, who was standing up defiantly, Draco knocked to the ground a few feet from her. Its yellow eyes flashed in the darkness and its pointy ears twitched. It hissed and exposed its fangs to her.

It made the same swooping motion down at Hermione and Draco observed her swiftly move out of the way from where he laid stomach down on the sandy beach.

Angry it missed _again_ the beast landed; taking a humanlike postured and walked towards Hermione. Draco noticed with horror its resemblance to a man when it wasn't flying about. It reached out with an angry clawed hand, attempting to slash Hermione's face. With cat like reflexes she dodged out of the way by just inches only to return the slash with a punch in the face.

The monster growled and retaliated by smacking her down with the back of its balled up fist.

Hermione grunted as she landed near the fire. Draco yelled her name, warning her of the things approach. Earnestly, she reached for a very long staff-like stick Draco had collected as fire wood.

She hoisted herself up as it neared her and swung the tree branch like a baseball bat, crashing it into the thing's midsection.

It immediately flew up backwards into a tall tree, where it perched itself on a high branch and screeched at Hermione, bellowing in pain and ferocity. Draco gulped in fear but Hermione looked sternly up at it.

Thrashing about aggressively now, the thing was very mad. It spread its wings out to let Hermione be aware of its massive size. Draco hollered as it swooped again, fearful for Hermione who was out in the open, ripe for the picking. He didn't want to witness the monster rip her to shreds.

It made its final dive for her, determined to destroy her. It swooped low, and in a timed reaction Hermione maneuvered down to one knee, bashed the branch across her thigh and then formed a cross with the two jagged broken pieces of tree.

It screamed its most horribly high scream yet as it saw the cross, shielding its face with its arms and swerved away, crashing into the ground and rolling into summersaults. It quickly stood up from its coiled, trampled state, only to feel the blow of a spike pierce into its chest. It looked down to its left breast to see the tree branch Hermione had just had in her hand sticking out of itself.

Draco watched in awe as Hermione had hurled the spiked branch at the creature with accurate missile precision. Then she firmly and fearlessly jogged towards it, only to jump up and high kick the piece of wood further into the creature's chest, causing its sharp jagged end to burst through its back.

It shrieked for the last time before it slowly crumpled into a pile of fine gray dust.

Hermione heaved a big sigh and fell back onto her butt in the sand, her hand clutching her pounding head. She looked over at Draco, whose mouth was gaping.

Slowly he rose and walked over to her, looking at the pile of gray dust with horror. He helped her to her feet; they stumbled back to the fire where they both collapsed onto the blanket.

Draco looked a little dazed and slowly reached for a canteen. After a long loud gulp, he finally spoke. "You saved my life."

Hermione, still rubbing her temples, looked over at him then down at her scantily clad body, realizing all to well now that she had passed out in the cold water and that it was he who had kept her warm, "Well it would appear that we're even now."

"What was that?" Draco finally asked in a hazy huff, passing the canteen to her.

"A vampire." She answered, gulping down the water thankfully.

"That was no vampire!" cried Draco in disbelief. "Vampires look like men. They're intelligent and civil. That thing was insane."

"It was just recently turned," she said matter-of-factly, staring into the fire, "You know, once a normal man just barely bitten by a developed Vampire. It was kind of like a baby."

She turned to look at Draco, who was still looking confused, "Adolescent vampires are uncontrollably bloodthirsty and beastlike," she tried to explain, "They want to feed so badly they act ravenous. When they first turn they're dumb and wild, looking like giant bats and craving only blood. The more blood they drink the more they mature into your typical vampire. They get smarter, calmer and more manlike, the form they spend the rest of eternity as. That one," Hermione said gesturing to the pile of dust, "didn't make it into maturity." She turned to look at Draco who was still staring at her with a confused expression. "Why are you so surprised, you've been looking for it all day haven't you?"

After observing Hermione's fighting skills first hand, it didn't surprise him so much than to learn that she was so observant too, "I was looking for the thing that killed all the deer and rabbits yesterday, yes. But I had no idea it was a baby vampire. How old was it?"

"Just a few weeks I would guess, however long ago the animals started turning up like they did…Who lives beyond your woods?" she asked gazing off into the rolling hills in the distance, covered with tall leafy trees.

"No one," said Draco, "There are just a few old small castles and houses that no one has lived in for years spread randomly throughout the forest."

"Well looks like an adult vampire has moved in to one, and it's luring in victims from the nearest village. It will continue to do so once every month or so. For whatever reason it didn't finish off its last victim allowing it to become a vampire. You might want to hire a slayer to take care of the master one."

"Slayer?" Draco scoffed, "Why don't we just send you out into those hills, you're obviously capable," asked Draco, "You knew just what to do."

"It wasn't my first time," was all she answered, taking another swig from the canteen, leaving Draco to wonder when and why in the hell she'd ever had to slay vampires before when he heard Lucius angrily call his name. He looked up to the top of the bluff.

Silhouetted through dawning sun, Midnight was also looking over the edge of the bluff as Lucius yelled again, "What the hell happened!" he was roaring, looking furious.


	11. Bipolar

A/N: Hey y'all! Sorry this chapter took a little longer, but if you're reading this A/N that means you know I haven't quit the story and you haven't given up on me and I love you! Anyways, I've gotten lots of emails and no I'm not a Buffy fan, at least not a sarah michelle gellar buffy fan. Nothing against it really, I just already have enough time consuming obsessions haha! (although I love the movie version with Luke Perry, yum!) but thanks for all the Buffy fan fic links... and the emails, it's so cool talking with other HP and fanficers, let alone readers :)

As always I'd love to hear what you think so review your honest and critical heart out! (I only got like 10 reviews while I was gone, not that those 10 weren't great, I really appreciate them, but I was a little dissappionted). I'd ask you to tell me what I should do to get you to review in a review... but I don't see how that would work out very well haha...

I can only hope there are some quiet people out there who, even though they're not reviewing, are still reading and enjoying.

Chapter 11 onward!

… … …

Draco slumped down into the plush armchair of his father's den. After Hermione repeated once more that her and Draco's account of what happened from the previous day all the way to that very morning was accurate Lucius asked her to go back to her room.

"Draco," he said when she left, "What really happened?"

"What we both said," Draco answered.

"You expected me to believe she saved you from a vampire after both of your horses went awry?"

"Yes," Draco said once again.

"Bullshit!" he cried suddenly, looking frustrated, "Why would she save you!"

"Because you'd kill her otherwise," Draco barked, not sure why he was so defensive about it …but why was her wanting to save him so unbelievable?

"Yes, I said I'd kill her if_ she _tried to kill you, but she risked her own life to save you from _something__ else_, and that I do not trust."

"Maybe it was instinct…" responded Draco finally, reminded all too quickly by Lucius's words that her wanting to save him was truly outrageous because he was her enemy. Perhaps he should've mentioned to Lucius that Hermione probably didn't want to be in his debt for long, since he had just previously saved her life. But he didn't really want to go in to detail about holding her against his body, both of them barely dressed… He shrugged his shoulders, "She said it wasn't her first time," he finally added

"Where would she have ever killed a vampire before?" declared Lucius in frustration.

"I don't know," Draco whined in annoyance and anger, "What's the big deal, so she accidentally saved my life once, you'd think that'd be a good thing!"

"I don't like your tone with me boy!" Lucius threatened and Draco rubbed his lips together, balling his hands into tight hidden fists.

He hated these conversations in his father's den. They were so belittling and horrible. The last one, as he recalled, being an explanation of why he had to marry her in the first place. And even though he was glad to finally at least know why he was doing what he was, the reason seemed petty and selfish to him.

There he was, sacrificing everything, so Voldemort could reap revenge against a harmless kid not even half his age? Honestly, he wondered why he should participate sometimes.

That was the same night Lucius had the nerve to request he take the muggle out in public. Although it turned out to not be so bad, he hated being told to do it at the time. And then, to top it all off, he had the nerve to scold Draco after their date at Casa Amor.

_………"A 300 hundred dollar check?" he had bellowed, "What is the meaning of this Draco? I've told you and told you, I didn't get my promotion because of that bloody department of mysteries scandal! Fudge didn't think the public would approve of giving me a raise and a higher position! You can't throw money around like that!"_

_"What the hell?" cried Draco back, "You told me to make sure it looked like we were having a good time! And what about you? Running around buying a new Jacuzzi, planning expensive parties! Dinner with Fudge tomorrow even!"_

_"You ungrateful little snipe! Not that it's any of your bloody business what I do," barked Lucius, "but I'll have you know I am upholding our good name! No one can know we're in a rough spot!"_

_"Rough spot!"__ Draco repeated nastily._

_"Yes! A ROUGH SPOT," he spat, contorting his face in anger, as if daring Draco to press him further, "It won't last long, not with what I having cooking! I've worked too bloody hard and too bloody long to lose everything now! Mark my words Draco, I'll show you how I can turn things around. Soon I'll have so much riches and power a little boy like you won't even know what to do! Now, I have an interview with Rita Skeeter to manipulate, SO GO TO BED!"………_

Draco rolled his eyes at the mere memory, what a pretentious self-righteous asshole. If only he were free from all of this… Lucius was still staring at him fiercely, still angry about Draco's defiant tongue.

"Sorry…" Draco muttered, looking away.

"I have things to do" spoke Lucius again finally, "So go away," and he took the seat at a desk.

Draco went to the door and saw his father's collection of antique wands in glass display case along the wall, "Hermione's seen these," Draco said blankly, "You might want to hide them, she's extremely dangerous."

… … …

"I'm glad you're okay," said Sarah, after Hermione invited her into her room that very afternoon. "I just redressed Draco's bandages, looked like a rough time."

"Wow," said Hermione, "He let you near him? That's surprising…"

Sarah laughed a little, "Well he is quite proud… he said that you fell ill during the night though, are you ok?"

"Yeah…" Hermione said, a little taken back Draco had even mentioned it, "I'm fine."

"Well I brought you some potion, in case you were still achy," she said.

Hermione smiled broadly and gratefully accepted the gift, "Thank you," she said as she undid the top and sipped from the vial as Sarah looked passed Hermione into her closet.

"Are you glad Narcissa managed to pick you out such beautiful clothes?" she asked.

"I suppose," answered Hermione, not really caring but guessing it was nice, then she realized Sarah always wore the simplest tops and skirts, always covered by a servant's apron.

"You should wear that baby blue cashmere shirt," said Sarah longingly, "It's so pretty."

"Actually, I've tried that one on and it's too small, my chest busts out of it," said Hermione not thinking. Her cheeks turned a little red but Sarah just laughed warmly.

"Would you like it?" asked Hermione after their giggling had subsided.

"Oh I couldn't possibl…"

"Don't be ridiculous," said Hermione, "Narcissa bought it intending it to be worn and it doesn't fit me, but it would look great on you. You must take it."

Sarah couldn't resist and accepted it as Hermione handed it to her.

"Maybe Draco will notice…" said Hermione.

"Huh?" said Sarah. Hermione looked at her, smiling coyly. "Oh gross!" exclaimed Sarah, figuring it out, "Draco is my cousin! Our fathers are brothers!"

Hermione's mouth dropped, and then she burst out laughing, "Oh my goodness! I had no idea… I thought you fancied him by the way you asked about our date…"

Sarah shook her head violently while laughing, "No, I was just curious as to how it went. Habit I suppose, Draco and I used to be very close as children."

Hermione's mind caught up with her as their laughter slowed. Why would a close member of the family be a servant?

"Sarah," she asked, "If you're his cousin, then why are you…"

"Earning my keep," she said, answering quickly.

Hermione looked at her with concerned eyes, "What do you mean?"

Slowly, Sarah decided to explain, "Lucius took me and my father in after my mother died. He's a salesmen, and must go away all the time, so I manage this wing in between his paychecks."

"But surely the Malfoy's don't need…" Hermione started to insist.

"I want to," said Sarah earnestly, being very insistent, "I need to do something…" she added after a pause.

"But you're family, how can they let you wear that-"

"I'm hardly family anymore," said Sarah, the two finally sitting on the bed to talk, "I keep this wing because I don't want to ever owe Lucius anything."

Hermione began to wonder… there was obvious some sore feeling between her and Lucius, and then she decided to ask, "Your mother was a muggle wasn't she?" she inquired softly.

"No," said Sarah to Hermione's surprise. "My biological mother died when I was born, she was a witch. But my other mother, who I do consider a mother, the one who died just a few years ago, she was a muggle yes."

"But your father, Lucius's brother, wouldn't he be a Death-"

"No!" interrupted Sarah, "He never was," she said firmly, "He followed a long a bit with Lucius until he was an adult, but he never really joined. When my mom, his first wife, died he took me to the states where he met his 2nd wife. Voldemort doesn't like him, first for never joining him and then for marrying a muggle… so we never stayed in Malfoy Manor long when we used to visit. But after my 2nd mom died things just… kind of fell apart for us, he just couldn't have me going on his sales trips with him anymore, which is why I stay here now, like this…"

Hermione placed a warm caring hand on Sarah's shoulder, proud of Sarah for actually saying Voldemort's name, but feeling sad for her that she felt like an outcast in her own family just because she wasn't a muggle-hater.

"I love both my biological mother and my muggle mother," she said looking sad, "But Lucius holds it over my father's head, and terrifies him with it. He hates to leave me here, but we have no place else to go."

Hermione nodded compassionately, and then hugged the girl. "How long has it been since you've seen your father?" she asked.

Sarah thought for awhile, "About nine months I'd say," she answered softly, "I didn't even get to see him much, he and Lucius, oddly enough, spent the weekend with Clyde Baggins."

"Who?" asked Hermione, something nagging deeply in her mind.

"An old coworker from long ago, from before I was born, before he quit being a Counter to be a salesmen," Sarah answered.

"Your dad likes to keep in touch with old friends then?" Hermione questioned.

"Well usually that's like him yes, but he seemed like it was more trouble than fun, I mean Lucius seemed more excited than him, which makes me angry!" Sarah said, her tone growing more firm with each passing word, "Why would he go through all the trouble of coming to the Manor only to spend time with someone he didn't want to see instead of me?"

Hermione sensed that the memory her father's last visit was upsetting and probably caused her to miss him terribly. She sat quietly with her, allowing Sarah to clear her misty eyes after Hermione had ferreted up such sore subjects and painful memories. It felt nice that Sarah would share such things with her though; Hermione was beginning to care deeply for the girl.

"Sorry again," she said after a long moment passed for Sarah to regain her composure, "…for thinking you fancied Draco…"

Sarah faked a retch all over again but laughed light heartedly, "No, I don't like Draco," she said smiling, "although we were best friends as kids. Draco was my hero back then. He was the main reason my father even visited in the first place, just so we could see each other."

"What happened?" inquired Hermione.

"Well he went to Hogwarts and got sorted into Slytherin… he was so different the next summer. I guess Lucius had finally taken his toll on him. I was just really glad… well, sad, actually that this marriage is forced, you're the sweetest girl Draco never really brought home."

Hermione laughed at the young girl and hugged her; glad they could cheer each other up a bit.

"They're going to announce the engagement tomorrow," said Sarah, still laughing a little "I'm not supposed to tell you. The party will be soon as well. And the day after tomorrow you're to get your hair and nails done with Narcissa."

Hermione nodded at the girl thankfully for the information.

"Why does Lucius want to be known as a muggle lover?" asked Hermione on a limb.

"I really don't know for sure," said Sarah shaking her head, and Hermione believed her. "I can only assume it's to gain a new position in the ministry though."

Of course! How could Hermione have been so stupid! The higher up Lucius was the more he could corrupt and destroy the ministry from the inside, right under Fudge's nose! "Oh goodness I can' believe I didn't think of that."

"No matter," said Sarah, "I can't help but think it's something more than that anyway."

It probably would have never occurred to Hermione, but once Sarah had planted the seed of doubt, Hermione was positive things were more than they seemed as well… just one more unknown thing to eat away at her. Sarah told her she had to go, Narcissa couldn't figure out engagement party decorations without someone to yell at, and Hermione reluctantly said goodbye to her only friend in nine months besides her cat.

… … …

Hermione apprehensively entered the rec-room, the only place she thought Draco could be, since no one answered her knock to his bedroom door. She discovered him there, reclined across a couch in just his pants, a pack of ice on his knee and his bandage exposed, watching some crazy wizard game show on the TV.

She didn't know why him being topless would make her feel odd now, after all that had happened just the day before, but for a second Hermione forgot what she wanted to say.

"Yes?" Draco drawled after they looked at each other for a long while.

"Uh…" said Hermione shaking her head, "It's almost seven… shouldn't we go to the dining room?"

"Oh," said Draco, "No one told you then? Not tonight, Lucius and mum are having dinner with Fudge."

For the first time Hermione noticed that Draco never called Lucius "Dad" unless it was apart of his instructed act…

"There's some good food in that little kitchen if you're hungry…" Draco added oddly since Hermione continued to just stand there and stare at him, "Unless you're getting full just from checking me out."

Hermione's eyes opened wide in embarrassment and then she scoffed. Thinking of no explanation she walked over to the kitchen scowling and retrieved one of her Mountain Dews. Draco too was a little surprised, he had just joked around with her like she had been a Slytherin co-ed and they were both back in the common room… he sat up and looked when he heard the crunchy fizz of the can opening.

"That stuff is yours?" he asked, as if he had been wondering.

"Yes," she said.

"What is it?"

"A drink."

"Why does it look so weird?"

"What? The can? That's to keep the bubbles in," she said.

He looked at her blankly.

"It's not like champagne or anything, so it's not in a bottle, but it has carbonation that needs to be trapped or else it goes flat. It's sweet and caffeinated…" she explained. He continued to look at her skeptically, "Would you like to try some?" she finally offered, her description clearly going over his head.

He eyed her suspiciously and got up. He took the can from her hand and swigged it a little. After it went down his throat he took another drink. Then he looked like he was going to pull it away but suddenly decided to drink some more. Next thing Hermione knew he was gulping it down.

"Okay," said Hermione, "How about you just have that one then…I'll get a new one…"

"How much more is there?" he inquired peering into the fridge as Hermione quickly shut it, "They're mine," she declared, "I earned them."

"Ah, but it's my fridge," Draco said, slightly appearing to tease her.

"I wouldn't have any more if I was you, they'll keep you up all night."

"Likely story," Draco quipped.

"I'm serious," said Hermione, slightly chuckling, "You won't be able to sleep, and you've been up since dawn."

Draco just leered at her and returned to the couch with Hermione's original can. For some inexplicable reason, he was slightly down for a second when she left soon after that, because it made him aware of how empty and lone the room truly was.

But Hermione felt awkward staying, and she was very, very tired from taking on a Vampire for the first time completely on her own, especially after a horrible night of being sick from nearly freezing to death, not to mention getting drilled by Lucius and then earning Sarah's trust. She figured going to bed early was the most plausible thing to do, so she did.

… …. …

_……… "You were nervous about MY reaction?" whispered Ginny in a scolding tone, "Ron's not that stupid you know, and he knows you two better than anyone. I wouldn't be surprised if he already knew."_

_Hermione knew Ginny was right._

_"I won't tell him though," said Ginny, still not being fully friendly, "No offense, but it's not really a favorite topic of mine, nor a comfortable one…"_

_Hermione's lips quivered, it killed her to think she played a role in Ginny's broken heart._

_Ginny could tell Hermione felt terrible, and she supposed her feeling guilty about it was satisfaction enough. Besides, deep down she knew things had reached their peak with Harry, it was time she got over him anyway._

_"Well if it was going to be anyone I'm glad it was you…"_

_Hermione finally lost control and shed tears, but at least the were happy ones, "Oh thank God we're still friends." ………_

… … …

Hermione recalled the next day to be an awkward blur.

Apparently Lucius had invited everyone in his meeting that morning to his house in few days time, due to the fact that his son was getting married and he wanted to celebrate with everyone.

He had unofficially announced their engagement, which was like letting one drop of blood fall into a tank of starving sharks.

Within the hour, half of the Ministry knew, not to mention countless numbers of the wizarding world's business tycoons and their gossipy wives.

Hermione was told that she would meet Lucius with Narcissa and Draco in downtown wizard London, where they would all go out to dinner together. It was another shameless ploy for publicity.

The three could barely step out of the car to go into the restaurant due to all the photographers. Hermione suspected Lucius had mentioned exactly where and when he'd be out that night because there was an uncountable amount of other rich and powerful wizards coincidently trying to get into the same place, dying to see if the rumors were true. Draco Malfoy was to really wed a muggle-born girl? And Lucius gave them his blessing?

Not wanting to help Lucius more than she had to, Hermione meekly smiled at all the waving smiling faces that crowded the entrance to the restaurant. She had been his pawn once in the Rita Skeeter interview, but she would not give him a leg up again.

She even contemplated a possible way to create an embarrassing scene for which she could not be blamed, but failed to think of anything.

So begrudgingly she sat in her chair, stirring her clam chowder, tuning out Lucius's mindless fake chitchat while everyone else eavesdropped on their table, still disbelieving the Malfoy's were going to be Hermione's parents in law.

Then suddenly a wave of nausea overcame her as she looked down at the massive diamond ring Narcissa of all people had shoved in her face just before they left for the restaurant that now resided on her ring finger. Their engagement was out in the open now. Whatever Voldemort's plan was it seemed to be going off without a hitch, and Hermione still hadn't heard a word from any of her friends.

'Maybe they just didn't see the news article…' she thought to herself, 'surely they'll hear about the engagement though, and come straight away…'

'Or maybe they won't,' said a faint cynical and cruel version of her own voice deep inside her head, '…Maybe they'll leave you to rot to death as a Malfoy, just like they left you to rot in the jail cell.'

Hermione's heart stung as she successfully hurt her own feelings, 'No', said her dominant voice, shoving away the pessimistic one, 'I mustn't think like that… I don't know what happened, but I'm sure there's an explanation for everything…'

"Hermione!" Lucius repeated, more firmly since it was apparently the second time he'd said it.

Hermione jolted back to reality and looked at Lucius, "Dessert dear?" he asked, his face kind but his eyes piercing.

Hermione looked about the table, the server had wheeled over a dessert cart, "No thank you," she muttered quietly, already feeling like she was going to vomit up what she had already eaten.

Hermione was still and quiet the entire ride home. Draco looked at her, noticing her eyes were far away and she looked pale and sad. Narcissa looked at her son, disbelieving her own eyes. Those weren't looks of concern directed at the muggle were they? Oh Merlin she hoped not… and she desperately craved a cigarette, especially when she saw Draco immediately follow behind Hermione as they exited the car and she hurried through the foyer to the hall that led to her room.

He caught up with her as she neared her door. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned to see who it was.

Draco stopped shortly and looked at her intently, but said nothing.

"Yeah?" said Hermione with surprising impatience.

"Uh, are you ok?" asked Draco, suddenly feeling uncomfortable by her negative expression and body language. Perhaps he should've known but he didn't expect her hostility to be directed towards him.

"What do you mean? I'm obviously ok." She said snippily, secretly dreading with anger the article that would surely appear in the Daily Prophet tomorrow… "Malfoy proposes to Granger, Granger simply adores father-in-law."…

"Well I just thought you looked a little sick or something and I was wondering if you needed anything…"

"I'm fine," she said, curling her lip in a sneer as she turned away and disappeared into her room, as if an offer of help from Draco was too repulsive to accept.

And this surprised him _because_? Was he insane to think they had really evolved to a civil, even friendly, relationship? Apparently so.

His mood shifting very fast, he found himself feeling very hostile and negative. Unable to determine why these feelings were in him, he became very angry. At her.

'What a bitch,' thought Draco, 'here I am trying to be nice to the pathetic muggle and she has the nerve to be a snotty beast!' Still fuming he slammed his own door closed.

Normally Hermione would have felt guilty around then for snapping at a totally undeserving person. But what exactly made Draco Malfoy so undeserving? He was the enemy right? The infamous asshole from Hogwarts who constantly picked on her and her friends.

She may not have any, but he himself had some power in the situation, whether it be keep her captive and appease Lucius, or go against him and set her free. Sure, releasing her would result in practically his own death, and she supposed Draco of all people was the least likely to sacrifice his life just for her… but still he could let her go if he wanted.

But Hermione could not convince herself. Putting herself in Draco's shoes, she knew that _even if he wanted to_, there was nothing logical he could do to make things better than they were. But Hermione was angry anyway.

Angry and scared and all alone, she pushed her face into her pillow, not wanting to cry again that night. The only consolation was that she managed to keep her sobs quiet enough lately as to not keep up Draco.

Perhaps she was too hopeful to expect anything so soon, but honestly, where was any sign of the Order?

… … …

_………"NO Ivan, STOP IT!" "Get off of me! HARRY!"_

_"Podmore!__ Podmore! NOOO!"………_


	12. This is not a rescue mission

A/N: Thanks for reading this! Giving me your precious time is flattering! Don't forget to review!

… … …

Hermione, fuming once again because of Lucius, who debriefed her most harshly before seeing her off, his eyes evil and blood shot, face red and his mouth, which was spouting off cold hearted warnings and spitting out little flecks of salvia as he threatened her into behaving, sat uncomfortably in the wizard car, next to an even more uncomfortable Narcissa.

Looking foul, eyes covered by black sleek sunglasses, she dragged on her long thin cigarette before the car pulled up to a ridiculously stuffy and expensive bakery.

As soon as they reached the entrance they were greeted by the stores owner, who was happy to have them as famous costumers, for surely the cake seen at the wedding was going to be quite coveted.

Narcissa's fake smile gave Hermione the creeps, but not nearly as much as when Narcissa put her arm lovingly around her as they walked into the shop, for paparazzi were just down the street snapping pictures for some wizard tabloid.

Hermione acted as sweet and agreeable as needed, making no genuine effort to actually be convincing, but doing a good enough job as to not be complained about. Narcissa was onto her behavior, but it was difficult to do anything about it.

Hermione certainly was sick of being followed around by photographers, not to mention the disgusting flakey shop owners they had to meet, and her cheeks definitely hurt from all the forced smiling. But Lucius had reminded her just that morning that he knew where her house was. Utterly fearful for her family, she had no choice.

Soon after picking out a cake she found herself in a posh and vain beauty salon, where numerous old wizard ladies were getting their wrinkles charmed away and having a beautician rub hair removal potion on their legs.

Hermione sat down next to Narcissa and followed her lead, giving her hands to the young stylish witch on the other side of the table.

The witch began to soak Hermione's hands in sweet smelling potions and remedies while scrubbing them smooth. It would have been relaxing if it wasn't for Narcissa and her manicurist's petty gossiping back and forth right next to her. Hermione didn't know how long she could stand hearing about whose wife was having an affair and which wizard was secretly in debt or had a firewhisky problem.

Relieved, another witch came to get Hermione after her fingernails, which had basically been neglected for months but were now pearly, smooth and dainty looking. The new witch led her to a chair where she explained she'd be deep treating Hermione's locks with a softening serum while also applying a magical facial crème. …If only she was being pampered for any other occasion, she'd be in heaven.

"You have beautiful hair," said the witch, while rinsing out the serum.

"Thank you," said Hermione shyly.

"Pretty hair on a pretty girl," she went on, "No wonder Draco wants to marry you," she winked.

Hermione forced an awkward smile. She knew she'd have to endure many more comments like that… but they were still so _odd._

"Now it's just a few minutes under the dryer then…" and the witch led Hermione to a different seat, bringing a bowl like thing down over her head, "We just got these new dryers, they're jinxed to be silent, it's really nice…there's some magazines for you to read if you'd like…" then the witch walked off to ring up another customer.

The young women in the dryer seat next to Hermione, whose face was covered in a green kind of cream, surveyed Narcissa carefully; she was across the salon, conversing with her beautician about anti-gray hair potions.

"Pssst," said the young witch.

Hermione slowly looked over to her. Her heart stopped. She could not believe it. It was Tonks. Her nose was different, her lips were gigantic and her eyes brows were a completely different shape, but Hermione, the only one, could tell it was Tonks none the less.

"Don't squeal," said Tonks, then she smiled.

Hermione opened her mouth as to say something but could not, only to shut it again.

"I don't have much time," said Tonks, starring into a magazine, hardly moving her lips, "Are you well?"

"Yes," answered Hermione, "Just let me know how we're getting out of here. Do you already know the counter-spell for my binding charm? Will we just run? Or shall we blast our way out…"

"This is not a rescue mission," said Tonks.

"Wha..." Hermione could barely finish her word, unable to believe her ears.

"I'm sorry Hermione, we're all so horribly relieved you're ok, but you've got an assignment."

Was she dreaming? Was the order really going to give her a mission? After all she had been through?

"I'm so sorry Hermione, I really truly am. But this is such a great opportunity for us to gain some inside information. We need you to spy."

"You can't be serious!" Hermione exasperated.

"Shhh," whispered Tonks, "I know it's hard, but you're in no immediate danger right? And we really want to know why Voldemort wants you two married."

"I think I already know," Hermione insisted, "Lucius wants to be promoted in the ministry, so he wants a muggle loving reputation."

"Well yeah, we figured as much, but there's also something else going on …with prisoners in Azkaban, not ones that you'd think either, as well as some other things… Voldemort's been making some very peculiar moves… shady things are afoot. We need you to find out about them."

"Tonks, I-I can't…"

"Of course you can Hermione! You're one of the best members the Order of the Phoenix has ever seen! You could help us so much if you just played along it while longer_. Just a little while longer Hermione._ You still consider yourself dedicated to the fight against the dark arts right?"

"Of course," said Hermione, how could she ever doubt her?

"Well good, we'll be getting in touch again very soon. See what you can find out, however you can find it out, while still being in the character you have been. We're watching, we'll be protecting you all we can. I love you Hermione, it's so nice to see you, I'm so glad you're well. _We all are_. I must go. Be on guard"

"But-" yearned Hermione, only to see Tonks drop her magazine and look up to the approaching beautician, "All done!" she asked cheerfully.

"Yup," said the witch, lifting up the dryer, "Right this way then."

Tonks turned slightly to look back at Hermione and smiled feebly.

She watched Tonks pay and exit the salon, not even looking at Hermione again. It couldn't be. That did not just occur. It all happened so fast. Tonks can't be gone. Hermione urged so strongly to jump up and run after her, but it would only be a matter of time before Narcissa informed Draco, and he mentally recalled his permission for her to venture away from him, leaving her to suffocate to death. Instead she sat in the chair, the dryer on her head, fighting back the tears. She was numb and speechless when the witch returned to turn it off.

"Well don't you look lovely," said Narcissa, approaching the two of them.

Hermione looked up at the woman who was only pretending to like her. She looked away so Narcissa wouldn't see her glossy eyes, and noticed how busy the salon was, full of people coming and going, not a care in the world. Standing in the middle of the exclusive beauty parlor, being pampered, a beautiful engagement ring on her finger, yet unbeknownst to any of them, she was completely enslaved against her will. It was all so surreal.

… … …

Hermione saw Draco for the first time since the night before, when she had slammed her door in his face.

He appeared again in her door, carrying a tray of chicken noodle soup. Miserable and tired, she looked at him with disdained confusion. She was sure he was going to be a jerk, which is why she was surprised when he started out nonchalant and civil.

"Narcissa was worried since you said you were too sick to come to dinner," he explained blankly, causing Hermione to make sure she had heard him right about Narcissa being _concerned_ for her, "She doesn't want you to lose any of the weight you've put back on," he added quickly.

"Oh," scoffed Hermione after he clarified, "How sweet of her," drawled Hermione sarcastically, walking over to her bed with Draco and the tray. Draco's body language was very stern and stand-offish, like he was during her first days at the manor.

"Well you have been sick _a lot_," he said, leering at her while setting the tray on the bed," You don't look any sicker than usual right now though."

'I knew the monster would escape,' thought Hermione, detecting Draco's rising meanness, "So? Like I can help it?" she said defensively.

"Well I believe you truly weren't well after you fell into the creek…"

"I think I went into shock or something…" Hermione muttered embarrassed, since they never really talked about the measures he took to make sure she made it through the night.

"…but I wouldn't go saying you're sick every night just to get out of dinner," he continued menacingly, "You're just going to bring yourself trouble."

"What do you care?" Hermione sassed.

"I don't," said Draco, "I'm just sick of getting caught in the middle of your bloody feuds with Lucius; I haven't had a peaceful day since…"

"You haven't had a peaceful day?" snapped Hermione, "Like I have?"

"Oh like running around getting your nails done is so hard?" he barked, everything she did irking him so.

"And what did you have to do today that was so horrible?" she fired back, both of them now arguing like sibling children.

"For your information, I had to get fitted for my tux in a stuffy tailor's and then I had to go get a new wand, which took hours to get just right!"

"Poor baby," mocked Hermione, "had to go out and buy more new things!"

"You wench!" yelled Draco, resorting to immature name calling because he was so flustered that she had the nerve to straight out mock him.

"Spoiled brat!" she insulted back. She had the nerve to fire back again!

"Shut up…," yelled a shocked Draco, looking flustered and turning red, No one dared insult him! He couldn't believe it, he couldn't allow! "You- You-… butthead."

Hermione's mouth dropped in anger… and then she furrowed her brow. Once she decided that yes, he had in fact truly called her a butthead, she couldn't help but smile in disbelief and start to chuckle.

Draco's face turned from angry red to embarrassed pink, and then he too, accepting that he really had said butthead, began to laugh as well.

"Jerkface," she finally said, hiding her smile.

Draco cocked his head at her, "Boogie eater."

Hermione's eyes grew wide in shock, "Wanker!" she responded.

"Skank!" he added quickly.

"Penis breath!" she cried.

Draco's laughter was full on once he heard penis breath, which had thoroughly surprised him. After watching Draco's angry face contort into unsuppressed uproarious laughter, Hermione too laughed, not believing her own mouth.

When the surprise and humor had subsided an awkward silence resulted, and the two's eyes shifted down to the carpet.

'What the hell!' they both thought. One minute they act like strangers and the next they were giggling like the best of friends. Then, in a flash of lightening their egos flair up and they're ready to throw punches. Both didn't know what was more perplexing, the other's crazy fluctuating behavior, or their own!

Luckily a house elf appeared at the door carrying a candle, breaking the thick layer of discomfort. A tiny version of Lucius's face appeared in the little flame when the elf reached Draco.

"Draco," said the stern little head, "I'll be in important meetings all day tomorrow and your mother is going shopping and to lunch with some friends. You need to be here in the afternoon to let the slayer in."

Draco nodded and the face disappeared with no farewell. He reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a can of Mountain Dew, "I brought you this, thought you might want one." Then he turned and disappeared out her door.

During their whole "spat", which ended up being quite humorous, Hermione had almost forgotten how miserable she was… until Draco put the can in her hand.

With a rush of nostalgia she was instantly homesick.

She fell in love with Mountain Dew while on a mission in New York City. Harry and she had drunk so much of it that night that they were ridiculously jittery from the caffeine and sugar that their stomachs ached. They merely laughed at their situation though, having too much fun for anything to bring them down, goofing around in their motel room.

Ron had gone to bed, getting some rest like Lupin had so strongly suggested, for the next day they'd be flying to Chicago, and then Los Angeles, then onward to every other major city, getting in touch with the magical communities there, searching for any trace of Voldemort.

But Harry had taken an unexpected liking to New York, and for the first time in a long while, well, basically since the end of 5th year, he was cheerful. Hermione didn't want to miss the opportunity to have a happy memorable time with Harry like they used to, and she stayed up all night with him joking and giggling.

But she had never expected them to kiss.

Nothing had been more confusing at that time, but Hermione managed to be sure about one thing, and that was to bring home cases of Mountain Dew with her to England.

Now there she was, with plenty of Mountain Dew yet no Harry. It was only Tonks and no one else who came to see her, whom Hermione got no explanation from.

It was even worse now, having a chance to be informed yet still completely in the dark. It tormented her, being so lost and alone, so out of the loop. 'No wonder Harry was such a jackass when we couldn't owl him…' she recalled glumly the summer before 5th year.

Hermione began to think very cynical thoughts again… wondering if the Order really cared about her at all.

She forced herself to stop.

The Order had made contact; they trusted her with a very important mission and believed her to be strong and capable enough to do it successfully. Not only that but they were watching over her, enough that Tonks was able to intercept Hermione in the salon without being caught. Plus, they were going to be making contact again. Soon even. Surely she'd get all her questions answered then.

At least that's what Hermione told herself over and over again.

In the meantime, she had a little investigating to do, and Lucius and Narcissa being gone the next day was the perfect opportunity.

Draco rolled over and punched his pillow down, extremely frustrated with himself. Why would he go through all that trouble just to give the muggle a Mountain Dew? He wasn't even thinking when he brought it for her; he had been acting so unlike himself lately.

For someone who he knew to be determined to escape anyway, his kindness and hospitality surely meant nothing to her. So why was he bumbling around like a fool, laying out red carpet for her wherever she went? He was even nice to her after she was horrid to him the previous night! And for what? Where did being nice get him? Honestly, what was with him lately?

Sure he pitied her. He knew exactly how it felt to be forced into a marriage and become a gossip beacon for the entire public, but it must be doubly horrible for her. The torture and cruelty she must have endured as Voldemort's prisoner wasn't something he wanted to think to much about.

But that did not excuse his behavior. Secretly, he knew why he was acting the way he was, and he knew it must desist immediately. Not harassing her or jinxing her like in their Hogwart's days was a kind enough gesture to bestow her and surely she should be gratefull enough for that. But going out of his way to be kind and friendly? Not needed and inappropriate, no matter how sorry he felt for her.

Besides, like he thought before, the little escape artist didn't appreciate it nor would she ever. An insult to all that was Slytherin.

'I've got to put a stop to my stupid despicable behavior!" Draco thought harshly to himself, making one final roll and shutting his eyes tightly.

_……… "I'm not going to pretend its not dangerous Hermione, these people we're dealing with, they're very short tempered and violent, they don't trust anyone. A lot is riding on this…"_

_"I can do this Moody, just trust me," said Hermione._

_"Then you've officially been assigned the mission," he grunted._

_There was a stony pause._

_"And Harry?" she inquired._

_"He'll be working with you on this one." ………_


	13. A real Vampire Slayer

A/N: So there's a lot of odd things going on in this chapter and although I am attempting to write in some mystery and want some things to be left wavering in the air for a bit, I have a fear that I my attempt may be poorly written and instead of being mysterious I am just being confusing! So feel free to ask questions in a review about anything. In my next A/N I try to answer some for you, but some I may not! Thanks for reading!

P.S. For some reason my little colons I've been using to signal time/scene changes (classy and oh so professional, I know) aren't working. It's really late and since I just want to get this posted I'm not going to tinker around for an hour trying to fix it tonight, so sorry if it feels like there are sudden and random abruptions.

… … …

Hermione was happy when she got to sleep in early that next morning, and when she finally awoke around ten, she helped herself to an order of another large delicious breakfast.

After finishing her French toast, sunny eggs, crispy bacon and fresh fruit, she took her time in a warm soapy shower as well. Perhaps she was trying to enjoy the redeeming qualities of Malfoy manor to make it easier for herself. Tonks not rescuing her the day before had definitely taken its psychological toll on her.

'Don't think about it,' she told herself briskly, 'just get your mission done, then you can finally go home.'

Hermione exited her room slowly, not sure where Draco was. Hermione had only been to the top landing of the north wing before, never deep down the halls to its rooms.

It was still and quiet when she reached the top of one of the long curved staircases, giving her snooping a lot more anxious of a feel.

She first entered the huge French doors at the top of the stairs. It was a humungous master bedroom, a giant high bed in the middle with a towering canopy. Everything was a deep dark oak and the room looked like it was always dim, no matter the time of day. However, it was very clean and warm.

It appeared that Hermione's assumption that the Malfoy's had absolutely no personality seemed to true, for there was nothing in the room that appeared to have any sentimental value or elude to a hobby or interest to any of the room's inhabitants. There were slippers by the bed, and infinite clothes in the gargantuan walk in closets. Other than that, the room was quite boring.

After she concluded there was nothing of inertest in the bedroom she quickly left, nervous at first to open the door, because for a split second she thought she sensed someone on the other side.

But the coast was clear and she made her way into the other rooms. She was getting a little worried when they appeared to have nothing in them. There was a sewing room, a couple more guest rooms, sun rooms, and what looked like a gambling room, with stocks of brandy and the smell of cigars. It went on like this for a ridiculously long time.

About to be discouraged, she finally entered a study, but after stepping into it she was positive it was Lucius's office. It was dark and cool and Hermione, who was partial to studying in the sunny common rooms of Gryffindor tower, couldn't imagine how Lucius could get any work done in such a place.

There was a large wood desk straight in front of her, stacks of paper arranged here or there on it, she picked up a book which was laid open on the desk. After she read a few lines of it, even turning the page, she looked disgusted. She turned the book over to read the title, "Slytherins and their Success."

'Ugh, no wonder…' she thought, setting the book back down.

Behind the desk the entire wall was a window, but the humungous tan drapes filtered out the light. The small space between the two curtains was the only allowance of a solid beam of light. Hermione made out a peculiar square in the window, it appeared to open and close. Beyond the window was the courtyard, and looking straight out it was a view of Draco's south wing.

To the left of the desk was a shelf also as tall as the ceiling and went along the length of the room, save for the interruption of an impressive fireplace right in the middle, the mantel of which also went to the ceiling.

The shelves were filled with Lucius's private collection of books, and to the right of the room, a counter with drawers and shelves beneath it.

It wasn't the dark burgundy furniture and dimness that made Hermione uncomfortable, but the overall cynical, almost evil, feel of the room. Soon it was obvious why.

Upon closer look she realized she was surrounded by artifacts and apparatuses of the dark arts. She shuddered and stepped away from the magical devices used only for misdeeds, torture and manipulation. She went to the bookshelf but didn't find much solace there. Book after book of dark potions and spells took up all the space. Such powerful and efficient magic, guaranteed to get the composer whatever they desired.

In a wave of sympathy Hermione could almost understand why someone would turn to that side. The books screamed silently to her, she had a deep but undeniable urge to take up one of the books… dying for a glimpse of just one spell… for no doubt it would give her power and control. She could save herself with its force. Get herself out of Malfoy Manor even…

But she suppressed the horrible urge and turned away from the shelf. And there laid the distinction between strong and weak. For using dark magic would ultimately corrupt you, no matter how pure your intentions, no matter how much it could benefit you in an occasion. It crawls under your skin and consumes all the good in you, never letting go.

But that didn't mean it was easy for her, in fact it was quite difficult. The temptation was still unbelievably strong so she hurried over to Lucius's desk, to put some distance between her and the books filled with the forbidden information, suddenly afraid she may not be as strong as she thought.

She pulled open one of the drawers, they were filled with files and office supplies, and it appeared to be all ministry work. She went to the other side of the room where the counter took up the other wall but not wanting to touch the objects. She knelt down to investigate the cupboards only to find them locked.

She surveyed the locks closely, and decided that even if she had had a wand, allohamora wouldn't have worked anyway, because it was probably protected against it by some other far more powerful charm.

The funny thing is, no matter how difficult a charm may be to unlock with a wand, all were the same level of difficult when picking it by hand. Hermione pulled a bobby pin from her hair and steadily worked around the gizmo, thanking Fred and George Weasley under her breath as she heard the lock click free, and grinned triumphantly at Lucius's undermining of muggle tactics.

The cupboard door creaked open to reveal more drawers of files... but why were these ones locked up? Hermione began flipping through them. It appeared to be letters and official documents… her heart began to pound, they were incriminating! She had found something!

But then her excitement soon slipped away. They were all petty crimes; forgery, money laundering or small bribes.

"L: Gringotts accepted the amount fake galleons that I will not disclose in this letter. We shall meet at the same time and place as usual to discuss moving to the gold phase. C." read one letter.

"If he won't come quietly, K can create a small but persuasive amount to pay him," said another.

Hermione moved on to another file which at first she thought was filled with official Ministry paperwork and documents. But upon surveying it closer she was shocked to see that they were not truly from the Ministry, because there were little subtle and insignificant flaws. But the papers in the back looked far more authentic than the ones in the front, as if they were getting more and more genuine by each sheet. Too bad they were merely just ministry letterheads and signatures of insignificant ministry employees.

Maybe with time this evidence would get Lucius fired, after months and months of trial though. But to Hermione's dismay it didn't look like there was anything there that screamed "Voldemort riser and supporter" that would send him straight to Azkaban.

She raised to her feet, preparing to leave, the subject of fake money causing Hermione to recall bitter sweetly how upset Ron once was when he found out all of the Irish gold he had given Harry was worthless.

Hold it right there.

Fake money? Accepted at Gringotts? How could that be? Those Goblins were terribly clever, how ever did they get tricked?

In fact, it was supposed to be damn near impossible to recreate wizards' money, simply because then every wizard would do so. The goblins surely put all kinds of anti-cloning jinxes on the coins and the design and signs of realness were supposed to be impossible to recreate.

And weren't official ministry credentials and logos protected as well? You couldn't very well have people running around with fake magical law enforcement squad badges, or wizards making their own laws or regulations. The most talented and powerful people in magic protected these official things with the strongest most elusive forms of magic. It would take quite a powerful and clever wizard to break through such protection.

Hermione thought better of it though, not wanting to give the person responsible for these forgeries too much credit. Such a wizard would have to dedicate their entire life to the craft, like a pick pocket on the street. Not truly a gifted wizard, just ruthlessly ambitious with a horrible talent in one area of magic, a scoundrel deep down no matter what.

Perhaps Hermione had discovered more powerful evidence then she had first thought.

… … …

Hermione entered Draco's rec-room without hesitation. She thought she had learned that he didn't mind from past experience, but unfortunately for her, he stared at her most coldly when he realized her presence.

She said nothing and just looked away, going straight for the kitchenette. All her snooping had made her hungry for lunch. She opened the fridge and yelped.

"Where are all my Mountain Dews?" she cried out.

Draco pulled his eyes away from the book he had been reading and scolded at her, "Gone," he answered shortly.

Hermione dropped her mouth at him. He had honestly drunken them all, leaving not a one for her. He knew they were hers, he knew that she loved them, and yet he drank them all anyway with, apparently, no remorse.

It was just so unbelievably selfish, rude and mean. Call her petty, but her Mountain Dews being all gone truly made Hermione sad and furious. It was far more than a silly caffeine addiction, but a little fond and comforting piece of home. How could he be so insensitive?

"You ass!" she cried, appalled he had gone back to reading when she was so obviously mad.

"Excuse me?" he asked harshly.

"You knew they were mine, I even said don't drink them all! You stupid ass!" she cried again, getting carried away in her sadness.

Draco gave her the most piercing look she had received since she came to the house, "You better hold your tongue with me _mudblood_," he hissed coldly, using that horrible word for the first time since they had been reintroduced, "I'm so sick of your smart mouth, who do you think you are anyway? How dare you talk to me like that, I'm Draco Malfoy, and if I want to drink your silly soda then I will. Call me an ass again and I'll see to it that Father makes you regret it."

Hermione stared at him; disbelieving such an arrogant, selfish, mean, git could truly exist. How could someone be so coldhearted? The spineless bastard honestly thought of no one but himself, calling upon his father for back up just like at Hogwar-

Suddenly Hermione felt like the biggest fool. Of course he was really this mean, selfish and pigheaded, because that's all she had known him as from her years at school. Why now would he be any different? He took whatever he wanted, said whatever he pleased, belittled everyone he met, thought himself superior in every way, and when he found himself in deeper water than he expected, why, he could always call on his father.

How stupid she had been to think for even a glimmer of a second that he could really be anything else.

Draco watched her facial expression drop into nothingness as she turned and left the room without another word. Then he smirked to himself.

What an idiot he had been acting like, giving into the muggle, even after helping her out a little. And for what? Nothing!

There was nothing to gain from being kind to her …nothing she'd give him anyway… And Draco Malfoy didn't do anything nice for anyone else unless something was in it for him. And honestly, was that so wrong? How else was he supposed to make it in the world? He felt ashamed that he had found himself acting other than his normal self simply because he had been physically yearning for the girl.

He sighed, happy he was over his pathetic drooling-over-the-muggle phase and proud of himself for conquering it to boot, and reclined back into his couch, nose back in his book, ignoring the subconscious horrible feeling of regret in his chest.

Hermione remained in her room for the next few hours, not wanting to admit that even after all these years, after all that has happened, Draco Malfoy could still hurt her with words.

It was absolutely ridiculous that such a git should affect her at all.

She was avoiding all contact with him and was listening to her stereo to ease her homesickness and implanting her animated signature into all of the wedding announcements Narcissa had given her, one of her petty chores the woman assigned her.

With the way that he was so cruel to her she assumed he would be more than happy to stay far away from her as well, so she was very surprised when there was a knock on her door.

She knew it must have been him, since Narcissa and Lucius were not due back yet nor would they come to her room, so she apprehensively opened the door.

He looked at her sternly, his arm raised as he leaned against the doorframe, "Come with me," he demanded softly.

Hermione followed Draco all the way to the foyer where a man in a black trench coat and wide brimmed black hat stood waiting. From the nose down he was covered by a black bandana, leaving nothing but his dark eyes visible. He bowed his head to greet her professionally.

"Miss Granger," he said, "I'm Hannibal Proctor, vampire slayer. I've done some investigating in your woods in order to help you with your problem, but I was wondering if you could assist me in better understanding your experience a few nights ago. If you wouldn't mind, I'd really appreciate it if you accompanied me out there and walked me through the attack."

Hermione slowly nodded her head, "Yes, that would be fine," she answered.

"I'll get my cloak," said Draco suddenly.

"Oh, that won't be necessary Mr. Malfoy, all I need is the perspective of the individual not lying in the sand," said Proctor.

Although Hermione didn't think the insult was intentional, it pleased her to see Draco's face flush red with anger, the subtle insinuation of cowardice too much for the Slytherin prince to swallow.

"I'm going," said Draco, "I need to make sure Miss Granger is ok, and I want to be able to let my father know how things go."

Proctor's eyes flashed. "Mr. Malfoy," said Hannibal, speaking more firmly than before, "I really must insist you stay, the less blood present the less blood there is for them to smell. I am confident I can guarantee protection to one extra person, but two makes it that much harder. We shall be quick."

Draco scowled, not wanting the two to think he was incapable of going, but it was obvious Hector would not give in.

"Fine," muttered Draco, "But I must insist you do not lead Hermione off of the grounds," he said, leering at Hermione, a grim reminder intended to frighten away any thoughts of asking Hector to save her.

She scowled back at him.

It was a cool cloudy day as Hermione followed Hector to the stables, where he had brought his own black steed. He hitched up his coat as he got onto the horse, and Hermione imagined she would catch sight of a flask with holy water, daggers, a knife or any such things strapped to his waist and legs, perhaps even a crossbow attached to the saddle and large crucifix around his neck… but there were no such things. He reached for her hand to hoist her on the horse with him.

Instantly they began to gallop off into the woods. They traveled far and deep for quite sometime. Hermione grew used to the rhythmic clap of the horse's hooves and steady bouncing up and down after they had ridden so long.

"We took the left," Hermione instructed Proctor as they approached a familiar fork, but Proctor, saying nothing, took the right.

'He must not have heard me,' she thought, 'oh well he'll probably cut through the hills.'

But he did no such thing.

"You'll want to start veering west," she shouted into his ear, making sure there was no way he wouldn't be able to hear her.

"I think we'll keep north," he said firmly and Hermione debated whether she had heard him right.

Their dedicated gallop to the north clarified everything for her. They were approaching the edge of Malfoy's property line and Hermione was beginning to panic. She wasn't able to ride out any further into the woods then where they were fast approaching. Closer and closer they neared the limits of her binding charm as Hermione sunk her fingers tightly into Proctor's sides. She was about to scream from anticipation of having to endure the pain of going out of the boundaries all over again when Proctor suddenly yanked on the reins, causing the horse to skid to a sudden brash halt.

Hermione slid off the horses back side and staggered away, looking white.

"Why so frightened?" asked Proctor.

"I can't go beyond this ridge…" Hermione muttered softly, catching her heart in her throat from the close call, unwilling to admit this, this… "_vampire__ slayer"_ made her uneasy.

"Why?" he asked, cocking his head.

"Er- the vampires…" she pointed a shaky finger out over the ridge, "That's where we think they live…" she lied poorly.

Proctor chuckled. "There are no vampires in these woods," he stated firmly, glaring into her eyes.


	14. Ok, so a fake vampire slayer

A/N I think all questions were sent as emails, but don't be afraid to still ask if you think I've screwed something up haha. My wonderful beta and I have both started school and I don't know how much this will affect updating speed but I don't think it should be too bad. As always you should review and let me know what you think!

… … …

Hermione looked up at Proctor in his sinister black hat and bandana. If she had a wand, she would have no fear of this man. But she didn't, and Hermione didn't know what to make of him, so she was fearful.

"Yes there is," said Hermione slowly but defiantly, "I saw one myself, I killed it. It was just recently turned, the master vampire must be around here…"

"Ah yes, there was that one," said Proctor, suddenly smiling, as if proud, "No master though, just that one. But you took care of that didn't you? We hoped you would, Lupin was a bit worried, but Ron and Harry said you could handle it. In the end Dumbledore believed in you too."

Her stomach gave a sudden jolt. "Who are you?" Hermione asked in a strained gaze.

He took of his hat and put it over his heart, "My name really is Hannibal Proctor, but I am no vampire slayer. Terrified of them honestly… I admire the brave souls who can keep their wits about them when those blood suckers hover. I myself am merely a member of the Order."

Hermione gasped, her insides instantly beaming with happiness once she knew that she was among an ally, then laughed airily. "You guys released the baby into the woods… and then…"

"Were conveniently in town when Lucius Malfoy was slayer shopping? Yes," he said grinning. "Now come with me, we need to talk."

Hermione followed him anxiously without falter down a ravine, absolutely pleased they made contact again so soon, and once again, so effectively. It only led her to believe that at this rate she'd be home faster than she thought.

Proctor had led her to an old dilapidated shack at the bottom of the ravine, something she thought must have been used as on old hunter's shelter, and Hermione's breath caught in her chest when she saw who stepped out.

A tall, once lanky but now filled out, young man emerged with fire red hair. He smiled, then immediately rushed over to her, afraid she was going to tip over from shock, and wrapped his arms around her.

"Ron-" she gasped.

"Hermione," he beamed, "Oh Merlin," he groaned as he engulfed her in his arms and lifted her off her feet, spinning her in a circle, "Its- so- bloody- good- to- see- you-!" he grunted each word as he squeezed her tight.

Grinning so forcefully and her eyes watering, Hermione couldn't speak.

"Oh Hermione," said Ron, finally letting her down but taking her hands in his, "It's ok, it's ok," he whispered softly. She pressed her forehead into his chest, and he rubbed her back. "I see you've met Hannibal?" said Ron.

Hermione nodded, smiling small at Proctor.

"Sorry if I frightened you…" said Proctor, smiling small himself, as if he was secretly entertained.

"Proctor's been in the Order for a good four months now…" said Ron, "Just got back from the mountains didn't you? Trying again with the giants?"

Proctor nodded, "And the trolls before that."

"How did it go?" asked Hermione, not even realizing how quickly she was right back into her Order role, eager for any news, ready to act, to know, to help. Constant vigilance as old Moody would say…

"Well…" said Proctor, "Not as well as we had hoped… but not as bad as we feared either. We couldn't get them to agree to fight with us if it came down to it, but they did agree to stay out of it completely if things did turn ugly."

Hermione nodded slowly, "Yes," she agreed, "Could've gone worse…What else has been going on?" she asked eagerly, looking back at Ron, squeezing his hands.

Hermione listened intently as Ron debriefed her on where everyone was and what had been going on. Kingsley and Ron's dad were still working hard at trying to manipulate the ministry to their advantage, and since Voldemort had made an appearance in the Ministry building Fudge could no longer deny his return.

Hermione was glad to hear that it seemed Fudge had finally accepted the fact that Dumbledore was not after his job, and that the Daily Prophet had stopped belittling him. However, it wasn't doing much good since the unknown traitors working at the paper were just as successfully causing confusion by altering the truth of the stories.

On top of recruiting more potential fighters and allies, all the other members of the Order had their work cut out for them just trying to inform everyone they knew of what was really going on, along with what they should do, who they could trust and where was safety.

But Ron also told Hermione of the increasing uneasiness of the community, since they all very well knew Voldemort had re-risen yet there was no sign of him. People feared they were on the brink of catastrophe and with good reason. Many were certain a terrible war was brewing, and many were frightened by the lack of clear communication.

Yet others, most likely illogically hopeful and driven insane from anxiety, seemed to think that it had been so long since an appearance, the last being at the department of mysteries, that Voldemort had decided not to try to take over once again, that everything would fizzle out into peace with time. He had after all made no other public appearance since the end of 5th year, and deep in their hearts people just wanted to believe he wasn't going to try to rise to power again. But nothing is that easy. Hermione could barely believe her ears when Ron told her.

"Well," said Ron shrugging, "Waiting two years for nothing and people begin to get angry and confused and sick from all the fearful waiting.

"But it's absolutely not true!" cried Hermione, "I've_ seen_ Voldemort," she pleaded, "he _is_ alive and _thriving_! And his death eaters are more active and loyal then _ever_!"

"I know, 'Mione, I know…" said Ron soothingly trying to calm her down, despite his subtle horrified eyes upon hearing that Hermione had been in the Dark Lord's presence.

"It's so horrible Ron…" said Hermione, shuddering, "Wormtail was there too… and I was transported by Augustus Goyle! All those evil scoundrels and me with nothing I could do about it! They're all setting up something huge and horrible, I just know it! How long do I have to stay here Ron! When can I go home!"

"Soon 'Mione, I promise…" Ron said, trying to sound reassuring.

Hermione swallowed hard, trying with difficultly to stifle her shaking "Sorry," she muttered, "Pathetic really, me going to pieces like that… I've been losing it lately… it's despicable…"

"Don't apologize Hermione," said Ron, "It must be absolutely ghastly in there…"

Hermione tried to stand firm, not wanting Ron to think her weak, but deep down it felt so good to hear some words of sympathy… words that acknowledged everything she had been going through.

"Your beautiful eyes should never have to lay upon that scum…" said Ron, "Why, I'd love to wallop each and every one of them when the time is right…" he said angrily, shaking his fist, "…I know it's hard Mione, But-" Ron went on, trying to spit out what appeared to be quite difficult for him to say to her, "We really need you to be strong, and hold out like this for a bit longer…"

"How much is a bit longer?" Hermione asked, suddenly full of dread.

"Well that depends on how much you can find out…" said Ron.

Hermione said nothing but continued to look at Ron with a serious expression.

"It's not just Death Eaters who have been appalling active," explained Ron, "but the Russian Magical Mafia as well… not that they all aren't practically all Death Eaters anyway… no matter, the thing is, Lucius has been making lots of contact with them, and we really need to know why. I've just come from Russia myself, been spying on them for months now. If you can find out their plans before you're to be married then that's wicked wonderful!"

"And if I can't before?" asked Hermione apprehensively

"Then…you'll have to go through the marriage Hermione…" Ron said quietly.

Hermione's face dropped into horrified despair.

Ron's face contorted into grimacing, "And that seems pretty likely that's how it will turn out," he added against his will.

He embraced Hermione in another hug as she stifled a sob into his chest.

"I'm so sorry Hermione, but we're so pathetically clueless… we'd like to find out why you've been arranged to marry him before you actually have to, but the failsafe way is to just wait and see… You could find out _so much _for us Hermione, things we'd never ever know otherwise. If you just hold strong and keep it together… I know its hard Mione; I can only imagine how hard… we'll be protecting you every way that we can along the way of course…"

"But- but- I do know something!" spat Hermione quickly, "I looked through his office a bit just this morning. "

"What did you see?" asked Ron excitedly.

"Loads of things for the dark arts…"

"Raids haven't been very effective in the past," Ron interrupted sadly, shoulders slumping at the apparently uninteresting news.

"…letters about bribes…" Hermione continued earnestly.

"Well that all depends on who…" added Ron again, sounding more and more grim.

"… Sneaking fake money into Gringott's…"

"Fake money?" repeated Ron, his brow furrowing, "Into Gringott's! …Mione, that sounds like something Bru…" Ron's eyes did a kind of awkward roll as he turned his gaze away from her, yet still leering at her through the corner of his vision, and he stopped mid-sentence, "I better write this down…" he finished finally, "What else?"

"There were documents," explained Hermione, relieved she finally had something worth reporting, "They looked like Ministry paperwork and decrees but really they were forged."

"Hermione," said Ron seriously, looking her back in the eye, "You may just have something here. I'll be sure to inform Dumbledore of this right when I get back," he glanced at his watch, "Oh jeez," he said, "Listen, we do need to get back within the hour… Proctor will walk you back to the manor, and will be back on more "Vampire business" very soon where we can communicate again, if you can find out anything more I'm sure that will be helpful…."

But Hermione's expression had already taken one of opposition; her mind spinning away with updates on the Order Ron had given her, trying to fathom connections between Lucius and the Magical Mafia, wanting to discuss theories with Ron, and most importantly, not wanting members of the Order to leave….

"But Ron…" she cried, "You just got here!"

Ron frowned sadly, and looked at his watch again. Hermione knew he was under instructions, that he needed to go…

"I can't believe myself," said Ron finally, sensing what Hermione must be feeling, "I was so excited to see you in one piece I forgot to even ask how you were…"

Hermione's eyes teared up as she realized it was probably as difficult for him to leave her as it was for her to see him go.

"I could be treated worse…" said Hermione, recalling her room and her meals… deciding against mentioning Draco's harshness to her, since Ron would fail to see the significance, and with good reason.

Draco being an ass was nothing new to him, and he'd think it'd be the same for her. Hermione was being silly to long for a Draco that had been somewhat kind to her for a brief period of time after years of animosity…

"Well that's good I suppose," He said, "I don't reckon you being officially married to him will change things much, I would guess things would be the same as they are now only idiots will actually believe you're in love…"he added to make her feel better. There was a small pause between them as Ron surveyed Hermione's expression as she looked like she was agreeing with him, "You look great by the way…" he added, gazing at Hermione's treated hair and manicured nails.

She blushed, compliments still being somewhat awkward when they were given by Ron.

"Oh," he cried, saving Hermione from having to think of a response, "I almost forgot," he reached into his robes, but then suddenly paused, "Now," he said seriously, "This is very important. You may not use this at all unless it is an _absolute emergency_ and you life is in immediate danger. In the meantime, you are to hide it. If anyone finds it, it's all over…" he pulled out a long brown wand.

Hermione's hand trembled as she accepted it. "I promise," she said, "on my loyalty as a Phoenix."

Ron let go his end of the grip, knowing for sure Hermione could be held accountable. Swearing on the Phoenix was the oath of all oaths, and it was unfathomable that any member would break it.

"It was a spare," Ron explained absent mindedly as he looked at his watch again, "Harry found it when we cleaned out the Black house some more…" he stopped awkwardly.

Hermione's eyes deepened in darkness at the sound of that name. "Where is Harry?" she asked quietly but anxiously, knowing Ron needed to leave.

"He- He couldn't make it," stated Ron, "He's in Russia, following the Mafia, he wanted so badly to come but he couldn't get away."

Hermione nodded softly, "Maybe when you come again?" she insinuated.

Ron smiled warmly, and stroked her cheek with his hand, "Maybe."

He wrapped his arms around her once more and Hermione closed her eyes, enjoying the comforting hug. He kissed her softly, half on her cheek and half on the corner of her lips. "You can do this Hermione," he whispered, "Everyone sends their love of course, we'll be seeing you soon." Ron disapparated right in front of her, and Proctor was already readying the horse.

"Shall we go then milady? It's getting dusky."

Hermione stood silently in the foyer as Hannibal Proctor told Draco he had planted some garlic around the forest, hoping to drive the vampire away since he couldn't find it.

"I will not be paid, of course," said Proctor, "until you and your family are satisfied it is gone or I have killed it with my bare hands… I shall return in one week. Until then, do not go out without garlic or a crucifix... or this little warrior right here" he added, bowing to Hermione.

Draco scowled, the "slayer" once again making him feel like a coward. "Very well," he barked, "I'll be sure to tell father you were unsuccessful this time around."

Hermione left just as Proctor did, not wanting to be around the obviously foul-mood Draco more than necessary.

She collapsed onto her bed and thought forlornly of Ron, his freckled smiling face still clear in her mind. He was one of the bravest, strongest wizards Hermione knew. Most people wavered in between what they believe they stood for all their lives, but Ron was already so sure about his purpose in life and what was important, defeating evil suppressors, and he had just barely turned eighteen. The sorting hat may have considered Harry for Slytherin and Hermione for Ravenclaw, but never once did it hesitate putting Ron in Gryffindor, it saw the bravery and dedication instantly.

Guys didn't get much better than Ron Weasley. She wondered, after their encounter, if he knew about her and Harry... It was never her intention to hurt Ron, and if he knew about them then she hoped he least of all knew that too. Her intuition told her that he did, that somewhere along the line Harry must have mentioned it, or that maybe he knew it since the awkward beginning, and just said nothing because he was not mad, even though they too had been some what of an item for a brief time.

That is to say they had experimented with the idea innocently.

But with friends as close as that something of the sort happening was inevitable, especially since he had his subconscious schoolboy crush on her since the day he had met her on the Hogwarts Express.

She didn't break up with Viktor Krum for nothing to say the least even if it did take Ron a good year to catch on.

But even Ron would agree, as beautiful and amazing as Hermione was, he did not love her like that. He may have lusted after her for a bit, but that was purely physically. And he may love her as best friends do, but it was clear to both of them after attempts to go further that it was nothing more that that.

No, he was not the man she'd settle down forever with in blissful happiness. As much as she would've liked it to be Ron, it just wasn't. There was safety and comfort in Ron, a kind of certainty of a decent safe life, a happy quaint life, but it wasn't a life of passionate love. He wasn't her true love, she knew this, and there was nothing she could do about it.

But much to Hermione's dismay, there was nothing she could do about it not being Harry either.

He didn't know that yet, at least not to her knowledge anyway, because she never got the chance to tell him before she was captured. She had been dreading telling Harry that their secret meetings, their harmless kisses, their whispers of sweet nothings, it would all have to end.

But for all she knew, he may have felt the same way. Perhaps he too wanted to tell her but hadn't the chance to either.

A perplexing thought troubled her more than she wanted to admit… If it wasn't Ron, and it wasn't Harry, her two best friends, the men she admired and cherished most in the world… then who could it possibly be? Was she even sure that it _wasn't _Harry? Perhaps she had been dreading telling him so much because she didn't really mean it…

If she thought she was confused with Harry back then, it was nothing compared to now. It puzzled Hermione that he wouldn't find some way to see her like Ron did, who, despite being busy, managed to come from Russia.

Was he avoiding her? Was it because it was uncomfortable, all these adolescent awkward feelings? …or perhaps it was guilt that kept him away.

Had it been him?

Was he the reason she was captured? Was it an honest mishap? Or… Had he betrayed her?

Whatever it was, it resulted in her imprisonment. She was torn between sadness and anger. She strongly hoped it wasn't because of him, because she missed him so much. She didn't want to believe that her best friend, her possible love, would be so reckless and selfish… if he had in fact gone after _her_, after he was specifically ordered not to…

But if that was the case… if _that's_ what happened, if that's why she endured nine months of torture and hell, and now_ this_, this marriage business, then she didn't know how she'd _ever_ forgive him.


	15. Trying to get the job done

A/N: Sorry this one took a little while longer, things have been super busy, but I promise I'll finish this story no matter what, as long as I have helpful and inspiring reviews of course (raises eyebrow at readers)

… … …

The following time spent at Malfoy Manor was the most uncomfortable and awkward yet, not to mention the most horrible, which was really unfortunate for Hermione because she had finally accepted the fact that she would be there for awhile. The cruel irony plagued at her when she realized that when she absolutely hated it there and couldn't wait to escape, Draco, as well as the rest of the family was, at least, fake nice to her and took her out a lot.

Now, when she was willing to stay to fulfill her Order duties, Draco was a bigger ass than ever.

But that was nothing compared to Lucius.

The next morning upon hearing that Hermione ventured out on the grounds with a strange man without insisting that Draco go with, he stormed her room.

First the shady incident regarding the picnic, now helping a professional vampire slayer? He wasn't about to let her think she could get away with little incredulous things. Letting her get too comfortable, letting her feel a little too safe, a little too liberated, would only bring trouble. It would start giving her rash ideas. What choice did Lucius have but to stomp out any inkling the little mudblood might have at escape attempts?

Hermione knew the instant he barged into her room that he was there to scare her back into line. But she was no fool. It didn't take an idiot to inference that Voldemort had specifically ordered Lucius not to harm her for the time being. He had said it before, she couldn't be seen with any black eyes.

The shouting and crashing match that ensued was enough to rise Draco out of his quarters to see what was going on. Never before had he witnessed anyone stand up to his father before. She was throwing chalices and golden miniatures from the fireplace mantel at him as he was screeching threats at her, trying to gather up her CD's and take them back.

"You will do exactly as you are told in this household!" he screamed, narrowly ducking out of the way of a flying lamp, "How DARE you do anything like that! You will never again do anything that would give anyone ANY REASON to suspect that you are-" a glass mirror crashed on the wall behind him, "UP TO SOMETHING!"

"I didn't do anything!" Hermione was firing back, "I just did what I was asked to!"

Crookshanks was squealing and hissing, posed up in a giant puff ball, hissing at Lucius, the commotion scaring him immensely.

But perhaps Hermione was a little too outlandish, and under minded how cruel Lucius truly was. After a marble trinket had hit him square in the nose he dropped his arm full of CD cases and whipped out his wand.

"Crucio!" he bellowed, and a surprised Hermione took the all too familiar hit in the shoulder, causing to her cry out and dropped her next weapon of home décor.

Before Hermione could even re-open her eyes after shutting them tightly, holding in her moan of pain, letting only a deep guttural "ooh" escape her mouth, clutching her throbbing shoulder with her hand, Lucius had made his way to her and swiftly backhanded her right across her cheek.

"I wouldn't go forgetting who is in charge here again, mudblood," he barked harshly into her pain stricken face. He swiftly turned around; leaving the CD's behind but instead plucked up an unsuspecting Crookshanks from his spitting position on the floor by the loose skin of his neck. Draco had to move out of the way to avoid the flailing, clawing limbs of the hysterical cat as Lucius glided out of the door with the feline held an arms length away from himself.

He watched his father ominously storm down the hall, his hair flowing behind him with the cat struggling all the while until he turned the corner and the animal's angry squeals could no longer be heard. He looked back into the now disheveled bedroom at Hermione who was still clutching her shoulder. A tear escaped from her closed eye and it rolled slowly and silently down her cheek.

A million thoughts raced through Draco's mind in the few seconds he watched her, each making less and less relevant sense. He marveled at her bravery to kick and scream at Lucius, he was almost even jealous of it, but he also pitied her stupidity, since he could have told her there was no way she could ever win against him. The thing that amazed him most though, was that the curse hadn't even knocked her down to the floor. The idea that someone could be subjected to that curse enough that they could actually grow accustomed to it sickened him… and his skin crawled at the thought of enduring torture under the containment of Voldemort.

Finally Hermione opened her eyes and the emotion behind them startled Draco. She was looking right at him and there was no doubt in his mind what they were saying.

"You."

Him. He was the one who had made such a big deal to Lucius about Hermione leaving with the Vampire Slayer… because he knew perfectly well Lucius would punish her somehow. After all, that's what he thought he had wanted… like he was going to let the muggle get away with insulting him… but he never thought it would escalate to such heights.

"You," her eyes were saying, "You're the reason for this. You let him in here, you're why he was going to take my things, why he cursed me and slapped me and took my cat. You." He was positive of it. What he didn't know for sure though, simply because it was so ridiculous to conceive, was that Hermione's eyes weren't accusing him in an angry tone, but in a sad one.

Draco said nothing, and finally turned away from her doorway to return to his bed for a night without sleep.

Hermione began avoiding everyone all together. She spent her time watching the house-elves make meals, trying to figure out if they truly liked their jobs or not, or she lounged about in the library.

Lucius had been working a lot from home the last few days, giving Hermione no chances to go back to his office and exam things more closely, so, with nothing better to do she read book after book in the private seclusion of the library.

Believe it or not, she actually grew a little tired of reading, and took up a bit of writing.

Every now and then she'd run into Draco, who would be particularly cruel or rude for no reason whatsoever, which is why she began hiding in any room she could find. To her surprise it turned out those guest rooms were much more interesting than she had first realized.

In one she found an old blank journal accompanied by an inkwell full of disappearing ink. She decided it would be best to start documenting her stay, since the Manor was a labyrinth who knows how knowing where a particular room is located may come in handy. Not to mention, she'd need to take detailed notes about the documents she'd be getting a closer look at.

After drawing out her version map of the house Hermione found herself writing absent minded thoughts of her own in the margins. Soon dairy entries became a daily thing, not just updates of what's been going on, but Hermione thoughts and concerns soon became a constant occurrence.

"Perhaps at first Draco was too surprised by the circumstances (much like myself) that he forgot to be an ass. Maybe with the distraction he was in a state of delusion and knew I wasn't the source of the problem, so he absent mindedly didn't take his frustrations out on me. Well no need to worry now, he's back to his old horrid self.

"I wonder how much of him is dedicated to the Dark Arts. He seems to hate Lucius as well. I can't forget the way he felt when Voldemort came into the dining room, so stiff and tense….

"Is the Order watching me right now? Are they really just waiting for Voldemort's intentions to become clear before stepping in to get me? These thoughts are driving me insane.

"I've been here for a little over a week, and only for the first time has there been any sign of the public catching on to how fast things are moving. The engagement party is in a few days and from what I gather at dinner, Narcissa is hoping to have the wedding a week after that. That makes mine and Draco's courtship barely a month. People can be so stupid. I wonder what they'll do about it; it's quite the hole in the credibility of this scheme.

"I wonder what Ginny is doing right now. Hell, I wonder what they're all doing right now.

"Just found out today that Lucius told someone from the Prophet that Draco and I have been secretly dating for four months, and that I wore his promise ring for a whole month before our engagement was announced. Looks like he's thought of everything, that crafty son of a bitch…

"There was a hilarious article in the Daily Prophet today. Rita Skeeter claims to have interviewed Malfoy to address rumors about me being pregnant, hence the short engagement. He denies it all but it had him saying something like "We may be living in the same house but I swear on my honor as a gentleman that Hermione and I have guarded our carnal treasures, which will be heavenly enjoyed for the first time on our wedding night." I don't know what to laugh at first, Malfoy as a "gentleman" or a "virgin" or the preposterous concept of us "heavenly sharing our carnal treasures". I mean honestly, me shagging Malfoy? He caught me laughing about it, so I told him it was so hilarious because "it was on top of a list of impossible things that will never happen." Man was he an exceptionally horrible git after that, he cursed me for a solid five minutes. He gets worse everyday. Not as bad as Lucius though, who was also quoted in the article about how he raised Draco to treat woman like the precious things they are and that he's a "family man" with "strong moral principles" that he of course "expects Draco to exemplify as well". I nearly vomited.

"Malfoy is insufferable. Even when I say nothing to him he still finds a way to say something critical or cruel. Even the way he looks at me makes me feel like I must be disgusting or something. What's wrong with him? How can anyone act in such a way?

"I wonder if my parents got my letter. Merlin I wish I could write them again, it kills me to think of what I must be putting them through. There's no way in hell Malfoy would ever let me send an owl again though. I wonder why he did in the first place…

"I don't even want to sleep, even though I have nothing better to do. The horrible dreams are practically every night now. I almost can't wait for this stupid wedding to happen. Sounds crazy I know, but the sooner it happens the sooner this whole thing is over."

In between venting and recording things with her disappearing ink, Hermione was constantly bothered by Narcissa, who always needed to take Hermione to pick out flowers, caterers and see a hair consultant on her up-do for the wedding. Hermione thought it nauseating that Narcissa would be planning both an engagement party and a wedding.

One night's peace did come though, although Hermione didn't expect it.

Upon reaching the dining room one evening she found no one there. An elderly house elf told her Lucius and Narcissa were invited out to dinner by Cornelius Fudge and that dinner would not be served.

"I'd be happy to make you something though miss." He said.

"If you wouldn't mind," said Hermione, "I'd like to see if I could cook something up myself."

"No miss," the elf forced himself to say through clenched teeth, "we don't mind at all, help yourself."...

… … …

The growls in Draco's stomach led him away from his ballroom gym and into the kitchen.

He entered only to see what looked to be a half eaten pizza on the island, which was absurd since Lucius would never do anything like order for a delivered pizza, it was far too muggle-like. Upon looking closer he realized the pizza wasn't cooked. Also, it was topped with a variety of chopped vegetables. There was no red sauce, but only a little bit of some kind of white spread visible through the abundant toppings.

"A thousand apologizes Young master Malfoy," said an elf entering the kitchen suddenly, "I was just about to clean that up."

"It's alright, it's alright," said Draco, stopping the elf from touching it. "What is it?"

"Veggie pizza I believe, Miss Hermione had it for dinner."

"Really?" said Draco, "You've never made that for us before."

"She made it herself sir, insisted sir, I tried to prepare something for her sir, but like you she wanted to do it herself, I thought it best to just let her…"

"Yeah that's fine," said Draco finally, "It's ok that you didn't cook for her, and you can follow her instructions." He picked up a piece of the veggie pizza and took a bite of it, some of the broccoli sliding off.

The flat bread tasted homemade, and the white spread, possibly dill, was quite good as well. All in all Draco thought it was delicious. He thought smugly of Rita Skeeter interviewing them after their marriage, Hermione having something cooking in the oven while she rubbed his feet. 'Wouldn't be so bad after all, if everything was like this pizza,' said Draco.

What a funny thought, Hermione as a housewife. Happy and ladylike during the day to visitors and the public, a smoldering sex cat at night… just for him.

Oh wait, that was on the top of the list of "impossible things that will never happen."

'Damn it,' thought Draco… angry at himself for thinking of her like that again. He thought he had stopped. Apparently being mean to her wasn't doing the trick, as much as he hated to admit it he was still attracted to her...

… … …

_……… 'Smile', Hermione told herself, flipping her long curly black hair over her shoulder._

_From across the room the young man smiled back._

_'…Six feet, dark hair, thick eyebrows, overbite… it's got to be him', she thought in her head. "It is," said Harry's voice in her mind, clearly as her own. "Meet him," Harry continued to say. Taking a chocolate covered strawberry from a tray being walked by and nibbling on it seductively, she maintained eye contact with Ivan Karkaroff. It worked like a charm; the young man started making his way through the crowded ballroom._

_"Nice," said Harry in her mind, his physical self being outside of the mansion, watching through a window in his invisibility cloak, "I'll be reconnecting with you in his room then. Remember, his father's office is just next to it, but the key is somewhere in Ivan's dwelling. I'll send out to you soon, but if you need me, just think strongly."_

_"Now vat is pretty thing like you doing at one of my fadder's boring business parties?" said Ivan, now right in front of her._

_Hermione smiled wide, "I'm here with my father as well," she looked around, pouting dramatically, "Although, I don't know where he went off to, I've been so lonely and bored without him."_

_"Well then allow me to keep you company," said Ivan through squinted eyes, "Miss…"_

_"Natasha is just fine," said Hermione as Ivan took her hand to kiss it._

_"Natasha IS fine," Ivan repeated snidely. Hermione giggled._

_This was a little too easy. So easy Hermione couldn't help but feel that was about to change. Her job automatically seemed to feel a lot more vulnerable once Harry wasn't watching her. Whether she admitted it or not, she was afraid………_


	16. Invitation Only

A/N: If you read it, you GOTTA let me know what you think of this one, because I'm extremely interested in your opinion of it. Pretty please?

… … …

Bubsy woke Hermione considerably earlier then she would have risen herself, having had another fitful nights sleep. She feared her bad dreams were getting worse, growing and growing to a point in the past that Hermione didn't want to relive. She shook it off.

She ordered a simpler breakfast of whole wheat toast and raspberry yogurt, her "I-was-being-starved-and-now-I'm-going-to-eat-the-world" phase coming to an end.

When Bubsy returned with her food she informed Hermione that she needed to get ready and be downstairs by noon and informed her of a dress she was expected to wear.

"Oh god," exerted Hermione, sitting on the bed, eyes wide in horror, "Today isn't the…"

"Engagement party, yes miss," said Bubsy

Hermione looked over at the soft pink sundress Bubsy had retrieved from the closet, it was stunningly beautiful. She wondered if it was charmed like the last dress the Malfoy's suggested she wear. She thought instantly of the wand from Ron that she had hidden along the top of her windowsill… perhaps she could try to de-charm the dress…

But she decided against it for many reasons. First of all, the dress was probably not charmed because Draco, who she would be near all day, was in control of that now, and secondly, she couldn't escape anyway. She was assigned to stay there now. Stay and play spy.

Hermione, who was sick of accidentally helping out the Malfoy's, decided not to do her hair or make up so by some chance she would look messy and "un-pure". Unfortunately for her, her plan backfired, because her long wavy golden brown locks looked particularly beautiful when then dried naturally and could bounce freely, and her skin also glowed when she has just freshly showered, whether she did anything to it or not.

Besides, the first thing Narcissa, who looked gilded herself, did when she met her in the hall was grab her by the chin and rub pink gloss across her lips, muttering something about the dress looking acceptable.

"Now put on this," she demanded, handing Hermione some mascara.

Hermione frowned and went to a decorative antique mirror on the wall, hastily putting it on while Narcissa lectured her about not talking about anything inappropriate.

"In fact you should carefully think over _anything_ you say and do Granger. Even if you truly don't intend to send the wrong message, you'll still be held responsible, because you should know by now what will get you punished. And you WILL be punished if need be…" she looked at Hermione, who had "accidentally" managed to get black sticky goop all over her eyes. "You see? This is what I'm talking about! No breakfast for you tomorrow!" she grabbed Hermione by the chin again and was cleaning off the mascara marks with her wand.

Hermione looked back in the mirror and saw that her eyes looked amazing, her eye lashes were long and curled. She looked absolutely gorgeous in the dress and the corners of her lips turned down in disapproval.

Suddenly Hermione's attention was drawn away from her reflection to the noisy and odd line of people coming in through the front door. It appeared to be movers, caterers, entertainers, construction workers, all hustling in.

"The big white tent goes along the pool…" Narcissa started directing, "you can put the food in the server's kitchen… the menagerie can be set up further down the yard… What is that! I said I wanted white chairs! You idiots, those won't match the tent! How can we eat dinner at a missed matched setting! Just put the carnival rides around the animal cages…where in the bloody hell is the lion tamer?" she stormed off to monitor the caterers in the kitchen and yell at more people she was paying.

Draco appeared for the first time that day, dressed in a navy blue polo styled shirt, the collar neatly pressed, and some carpenter khaki pants. In such attire, one would think the first time they saw him that he was sweet and good natured, since the shirt so perfectly accented his gray blue eyes, giving him an aura of intriguing integrity and friendliness.

He looked very well kept and wholesome, but at the same time, with the way his hair fell wild and his shoulders filling out his shirt , he looked slightly rugged and untamed.

Hermione wanted to convey to Draco that she thought Narcissa was going way overboard with the fake engagement party but upon seeing how he looked that day she suddenly forgot what she was going to say. Draco merely looked at her too.

Suddenly Lucius came storming through the foyer.

"Goyle!" he cried out, "Goyle! I need your assistance!"  
Goyle appeared from one of the sun rooms, "Yes Lucius?"

"There's some riffraff at the gate, real guests will be arriving within the hour, help me get rid of them."

"Right then," said Goyle, "Should I fetch the hose? Or will we scare them away with our wands?"

"Well first I'd like to tell the brutes off… I'd like it if there weren't magical law enforcement squad carriages in the driveway when the guests arrive."

The two hustled out of the house and made their way down the drive. Hermione heard the shouts and bickering that ensued and peered out the window to see the causes of the ruckus.

Although she could barely make out the persons by the gate, Hermione wouldn't mistake poor fumbling Neville Longbottom any where. She could see his slump shoulders and his tremble as Lucius yelled at him through the gate, and then saw him re-gather his courage and puff up his chest to yell something back at Goyle.

Looking more closely she recognized Parvati Patil, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and Oliver Wood as well! Her fellow Gryffindors! Hermione couldn't believe that it never occurred to her that they must have heard about the wedding as well. And it wasn't just Gryffindors but Cho Chang and Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw with Ernie Macmillan and Susan Bones from Hufflepuff at the gate too!

Hermione was so excited to see them she immediately darted for the door, running down the drive to the gate where Lucius and Augustus were shouting at them.

Suddenly she heard foot steps approach her from behind and a hand firmly grip her wrist, swinging her back around.

She found herself locked up in Draco's embrace. But he was looking quite serious.

"You're really going to go running your mouth off to your friend's right in front of Lucius? He'd curse you to the ground!" he told her sternly.

Hermione looked longingly to the gate, the persons there unable to distinguish her through the trees and up the driveway, especially with Lucius and Augustus blocking the view.

"It's invitation ONLY!" Lucius was shouting, banging at their hands with his wand on the gate.

"But surely Hermione meant to invite us! Our owls must have gotten lost!" said the angry voice of Seamus.

"I can promise you, they did NOT!" shouted Lucius, "Now leave my property!"

"We demand to speak with her!" said Oliver firmly, "We want to hear if from her! HERMIONE!" he started shouting, "HERMIONE ARE YOU THERE?"

Hermione looked desperately into Draco's forlorn silver eyes. He was shaking his head. "Don't make me mute you," he warned.

Hermione looked slowly back to the gate, realizing the significance of the circumstance. It was basically everyone but Slytherins who didn't get invitations… because only Slytherins were either dumb enough to believe the situation or already knew what was really going on. Any other student from any other house would know both Hermione and Draco better than that.

"It wasn't my intention to give myself away," said Hermione, unable to hide her sadness, "I was just so excited to see them…"

Feelings swelled in Draco that he didn't want to admit. Hermione's obvious despair created what felt suspiciously like guilt or pity… he shook it off, "Let's just go back in then," he said sternly, "Narcissa wants a spot of tea before we're to announce ourselves."

"Long Island iced tea," Hermione muttered to herself, recalling how strained and horrid Narcissa had been so far that day.

Draco ignored her and led her back into the house, only to find Narcissa yelling at a short grimacing man, covered from head to toe in strings of garlic cloves.

"I can see them from the window!" she shrieked, "Just there, I can plainly see a clove sticking out of the bush! Do you think I want my guests to know we have a vampire infestation? I told you to hide them! And go ALL THE WAY AROUND the perimeter of the back yard!"

It appeared Narcissa was very concerned about what a vampire attack at her party would do to her reputation and it looked, from her bloodshot eyes and ghostly drained complexion, like it had her in quite a tizzy… and all for nothing. Hermione smirked with private satisfaction

A few hours later after everything had been prepared, set and decorated, the Malfoy's grounds were literally crawling with people. Snobby looking women were sitting under the shady tents sipping drinks and gossiping with the others while rich stern looking men talked business and politics, cracking horrible dry jokes around the pool while smoking cigars.

The few young children who came with their families were poking at the gorillas and lions on display, while others took turns riding an elephant or the Ferris wheel, some even tackling a clown to the ground, causing the balloon animals to pop one after the other.

It was only when Narcissa, who was already a bit drunk, cried out to Lucius shrilly, that he finally quit bragging about his new hot tub to a circle of his coworkers and climbed to the top of the sweeping brick stairs that led from the extravagant backdoor and chimed on his wine glass.

"My dear friends" he bellowed graciously, "I am so flattered that you all chose to come to our humble party in honor of my dearest son, Draco Malfoy, and his beautiful bride to be Hermione Granger!"

Cheers and applause erupted as Hermione and Draco emerged from the door, cascading down the stairs hand in hand while everyone stared at them. As soon as they made it to the stoop of stairs though, Hermione's hand was greedily taken by stranger after stranger who shook it profusely, saying things like "honored to meet you," "isn't Draco the lucky boy" and "charmed, of course."

Some of the introductions felt genuine, like some of the guests were truly happy to meet her. Hermione concluded that these must be the non-Death Eater coworker's of Lucius's at the ministry, the ones who believed the papers and Lucius's new act.

The ones who weren't particularly rude, but still somewhat skeptical of her and standoffish, Hermione decided must be Lucius's other coworkers, the ones who weren't yet buying what Lucius was selling.

Then the last group, the cold, stuck up group, hardly touched Hermione's "dirty" hands at all but merely leered at her. Hermione was certain these were the muggle-purification families, the ones who probably knew Voldemort had set this whole thing up…

Because the numbers of the third group were so surprisingly high, Hermione quickly grew tired of meeting everyone and was quite pleased to get away.

First chance she got she squeezed through the group and vanished beneath the food tents. She thought she had made it since no one hassled her in the buffet line, but as soon as she turned around and sat in the nearest chair, she slowly looked up and saw a whole table of young women who were looking right back at her.

Next followed such suggestively personal questions that caused Hermione's cheeks to burn.

"So tell us Hermione," said one young looking witch, after making insincere socially acceptable introductions and chitchat, "Is Draco a good kisser?"

Hermione's eyes grew wide, "Well, uh… I think so…"

The women burst out laughing.

"I knew it," said one, "With a quick witted mouth like that of course he is," said another.

A different witch was silencing their giggles as if she was the leader of the gang of females, "Shhh, shh! Ladies, please, you're making the young bride to be blush!" she ordered with authority, turning and smiling softly at Hermione, "Please forgive their probing questions."

"Oh…" said Hermione airily and smiling awkwardly, "It's alright ."

The woman smiled bigger, "Well then… if you really don't mind, perhaps you could clear something up for us girls that we've been wondering for awhile now…."

"What it is?" asked Hermione.

The woman grinned evilly and the rest began to giggle again.

"Honestly Kelly, we're nearly three years older than him…" said one.

"OH shut up Ann!" cried another between laughing, "Who bloody cares, he's a stone cold fox!"

"Anyways," the main witch went on, "perhaps you could tell us exactly how… uh, _big_ it is."

Giggles erupted again as Hermione's face dropped. She thought frantically of what to say without looking too embarrassed. "Uh…"

"Well its enormous isn't it?" said the unmistakable voice of Draco from behind her, who now had his hand firmly on her shoulder.

Hermione could have died of embarrassment, had Draco overheard the whole thing? Did those girls do it on purpose?

No.

They looked just as shocked and potentially embarrassed as she did, they couldn't have seen him sneak up.

Draco looked at the girls and contorted his face to wonder why they all had suddenly grown so silent. "The tent Mum got…" he said again finally, "It's huge…"

The entire table breathed again and of course, erupted with giggles. This time Hermione laughed too.

"Well…" Draco went on, "it was so nice to see you all again, but Hermione is needed outside…" Hermione stood up and attempted to look him in the eyes, "Come along now," he went on eyeing her with a coy smile, "we're in a _big _hurry."

The women called out their goodbyes, mostly now to Draco than to Hermione, as he led her back out into the yard where yet again she had to socialize with complete strangers and wonder if he had in fact overheard the whole thing.

It surprised her how many people she didn't recognize, she thought after all she knew about the Ministry or the Malfoy's even that she'd recognize more people. But shaking hands and smiling at people she didn't know went on for another hour.

Lucius dragged her around for the majority of it, hugging her so much she could lose her dinner. Her lips hurt from her fake stiff smile and when once again a random person flinched when she held out her hand for them, she had had enough. She checked and Lucius was busy comparing the number of bathrooms in his house to someone else's.

She slipped past a group who had just shifted their attention to Draco and walked briskly to the pool house where the crowd began to thin, hoping she'd be less visible if she stationed herself on the other side.

She grabbed a wine glass off a silver platter one of the caterers was carrying around and made her way to a pool lounging chair. She had just settled herself into it when her sunlight was blocked by two shady figures. Hermione cupped her eyes with her hand and made out Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bullstrode.

"I've never seen Draco so upset," said Pansy out of no where.

Hermione looked over to Draco, surrounded by his father's friends, who were gabbing at him relentlessly. He looked bored yes, but Hermione had seen him worse off.

"What do you mean?" said Hermione unsuspectingly.

"Well he wants to die!" cried Pansy, "Honestly, marrying a Mudblood… it must be hell!"

Hermione scowled. She was not about to tolerate insults from a skank like Pansy Parkinson, punishment or no punishment.

"Well at least it got him out of that other pathetic arrangement," Hermione muttered.

This time Pansy scowled.

"We can only imagine how guilty you must feel, ruining Draco's life and all," said Millicent, "not to mention Narcissa's dream wedding for her son…"

"Oh just horrible," Hermione drawled sarcastically, so anxious for them to leave her be.

"Well that's why we're here," beamed Pansy, "to add a touch of class to the sad little ceremony."

"What?" asked Hermione.

"Why surely you recognize your maid of honor Granger?" quipped Pansy.

Hermione's stomach turned. Before she would have refused to believe the wedding could get any worse, but she was just proven wrong. "And let me guess," she said, looking at Millicent, "you're the flower girl?"

"No," she said, "I'm a bridesmaid."

"Funny isn't," sneered Pansy, "That the Bride's party looks better than the bride? That will be a first." The two cackled together when Crabbe and Goyle also approached Hermione's now not so hidden hiding spot.

"Now Pansy," said Goyle, "We're all friends here now aren't we?"

"But Goyle, I thought we were the groomsmen," said Crabbe oafishly.

Goyle rolled his eyes, "Yeah Lucius's just told us, we're in the wedding party as well" he said, leering at Hermione reclined back into the pool chair in her short dress.

Hermione, disgusted, sat up a bit, "Well then who is his best man?" she asked.

"I am," said a firm voice as Blaise Zabini and Marcus Flint approached.

"And I'm the ring keeper," said a slack jawed Marcus.

"You?" asked Hermione, looking at Blaise, who was looking most directly at her as well, "You're the best man?"

"Yes," said the raven haired boy with eyes so dark they too seemed black, "Lucius didn't want Goyle or Crabbe fighting over the part, nor one of them tripping or drooling during the ceremony. And don't forget, it is custom for the bride to save the best man a dance."

Hermione could hardly fathom being hit on by Blaise Zabini, let alone being surrounded by a crowd of Slytherins. "Uh… I need a fresh drink," Hermione said awkwardly, excusing herself from the circle. Millicent and Crabbe appeared not to notice, as they seemed to pick up on their normal Slytherin clique conversation. Pansy continued to scowl at Hermione as she got up, and Blaise just continued to stare.

Eager to put some distance between herself and that group for good Hermione walked briskly away and practically ran into the pool house. Thinking quickly she turned the door knob, it was unlocked. She disappeared inside and breathed a sigh of relief.

Even though the guests didn't end up gathering in there, Hermione discovered the caterers had set out platters just in case. Hermione was helping herself to some oysters when she heard a slick voice in her ear.

"Careful Granger," whispered Blaise, placing his hands on her shoulders, "Oysters are famous for making one randy."

Hermione turned around and looked at him, furrowing her eyebrows. She did not like it when she was caught off guard, and she hadn't heard Blaise follow her in.

Although he never tormented her friends like Draco did, for some reason he seemed even more wormish and foul tempered than Draco. He was a bit shorter than Draco as well, just about Hermione's height, and quite stalky.

"Crabbe and Goyle said they had cleaned you up, but it truly is remarkable. Why, I hardly care that your blood is filthy." He said condescendingly, fingering the ends of her hair, "I was serious about those oysters you know," he went on, seeing the shell still cradled between Hermione's fingers, "There is plenty of rambunctious young men out there, wouldn't want to go spoiling the _white_ wedding now would you?" he said coyly, "unless, of course, you do…"

Hermione scoffed, "Some people will never know" she said firmly, tossing the oyster back on to the platter.

Blaise smirked, "Well I have my guesses, and I'm usually an excellent judge of character. And I dare say a hot little thing like you loves to shag."

"Excuse me please," said Hermione, trying to get past Blaise to leave the pool house.

"Not so fast," said Blaise icily, "You're going to marry my good friend and we hardly know each other. Surely Draco would appreciate a friendship between his wife and crony?" He moved in to kiss her, his thin wet lips smashing into hers.

Within a split second Hermione shoved him away, "Good friend huh?" she spat angrily, "Do all good friends make moves on the fiancés?"

Blaise laughed, "Don't you worry your pretty little head. Goyle told me Draco doesn't care if I get with birds that aren't "really" his girls".

"He meant Pansy," Hermione cried out in disgust.

"Pansy?" repeated Blaise, "Sick… never again anyway. Why would I have Pansy when you're around?" He grabbed Hermione's ass and pulled her into him, kissing her again, trying to pry his wiggly tongue into her gritted teeth.

Hermione could feel Blaise's excitement as he pinned her against his groin and she shuddered with disgust. Blaise pulled back in frustration from Hermione sealing her mouth closed.

"Stop it," she declared firmly.

"Come on Baby," he said, still holding her to him despite her arms on his chest pushing her upper half away from his face, "You know you like it" he muttered, sliding one hand up her side and firmly grasping her chest.

"No!" she cried, stomping on his foot.

The shock of pain caused Blaise to release her. After concluding that the stomp was intentional by the look of disdain satisfaction on her face, she quickly felt the sting of the back of Blaise's hand.

"Settle down you fucking mudblood," he spat and he pushed her down into the pool house's sofa.

Hermione cried out in protest but Blaise had already positioned himself on her, pulling a handful of her hair, thrusting her chin up where he hungrily kissed her neck and grinded his eager body into her unwilling one.

Anger surged through Hermione, her body rigid and stiff. She had been in this situation before, and she had never felt as violated and pissed off in all her life. Maliciously she knew she needed to wait… She relaxed her body, knowing an arrogant prick like Blaise would surely think she had "come to her senses" and would "absolutely love to be shagged by him."

Sure enough, Blaise sneered a smile, "That's the spirit," he coaxed, as Hermione's body went limp beneath him and she was no longer pushing or wiggling. He pecked her on the lips while running his hands beneath the skirt of her dress, up and down her thighs, and looked at her body, hungrily licking his lips.

She looked sternly yet subtly teasingly up at him through her long eyelashes. He pecked her on the lips again and she did not protest. He smiled then planted his lips on hers once more, prying her lips open successfully this time. The tip of his tongue brushed hers and she knew he liked it. Within seconds he worked more of his tongue into her mouth but Hermione was patient.

When she was sure that the brute on top of her had shoved as much of his tongue as he possibly could into her mouth she firmly bit down, sinking her teeth into his clammy swollen tongue.

She felt his muffled yet intense scream on her face and his body start to wiggle in painful protest yet unwilling to pull away, since his tongue was still in the possession of Hermione's angry jaws.

Once she felt the slight taste of blood she released her hold and he shot up away from her. Hermione pulled up her feet from beneath and planted them firmly on his chest before extending them with much force. He was thrust from the couch and to the other side of the pool house, crashing into a poker table.

… "Be sure the old man takes you by the office sometime," said an old man with a short gray beard.

"Will do," said Draco nodding as friendly as he could, sick of his father's lame coworkers. He could see his window of opportunity and quickly turned away to find solace in company his own age.

As he made his way, he watched Hermione appear out of the pool house hastily, whilst slamming the door closed and running off towards the house. Her dress was crooked, hair awry and her cheeks incredibly rosy and flustered. He could tell she was in a hurry, she almost seemed like she hoped no one would see her. Draco suspected she was trying to run away from the party without being noticed.

Draco continued to walk, he was relieved to see Crabbe, Goyle and Marcus talking with Pansy and Millicent just beyond the pool house and the thought of being among friends almost made him brush away Hermione oddly running off.

But suddenly to Draco's utmost surprise, Blaise came tumbling out of the same door Hermione just had. He too looked frazzled.

Draco stared, disbelieving the meaning of what he had just seen as Blaise took off in the other direction, his back turned to Draco, whipping his mouth.

The sight had stopped Draco in his tracts and he didn't know what to make of what he was feeling, like immense pressure on his sternum. Whatever it was, he didn't like it one bit. For a fraction of a second, Draco got the urge to bolt over to Blaise, an image of tackling Blaise to the ground flashed in his mind.

Hermione had made her way back into the house, running to her room to shower off the stench of the heavily cologned and sweaty Blaise, as well as scrub the taste of him out of her mouth with gallons of toothpaste.

She was quite confident she would receive no punishment for her misdeeds against him, even though hardly anyone would care that he deserved what he got after what he tried to do, but Hermione was sure he was too prideful to tell anyone his fumbling attempt to woo her resulted in him being physically defied by a girl.

Still standing there staring at the door they had both appeared out of Draco felt a sudden hand on his shoulder,

"There you are," said Lucius, "Come, the Minister of Magic would like to meet you."

Draco, who suddenly no longer wanted to converse with his friends anyway, agreed without much emotion and followed his father to once again be put on display.

After Fudge had finally stopped babbling about how "jolly good" it was Draco was brave enough to go against the popular opinion of the majority and wed who ever he wanted Draco found himself eager to go inside. The sun was about to set after all, perhaps he could say he was just too tired. With one last hand shake Fudge was off, blabbing about having a marvelous time when suddenly Zan Zabini appeared at his father's side.

"Smashing party," he drawled, "given the circumstances of course…"

Lucius leered at Zan and smiled meekly. He, like Draco to Blaise, appeared to be friends but secretly felt more like competitors, especially on the Zabini side of things, "Glad to hear it," he muttered.

"You know," Zan went on, "I never really did get a good look at the mudblood, and rumor has it she's quite the sight."

"I really don't know where she's taken off to," said Lucius with very little effort to look around, "You'll see her at the wedding then I'm sure… a week from today at five."

"Yes but when's the reception?" asked Zan, "The groom's father gets a dance, as does the best man, but what about the rest of us eh? When do we get a go with her? Ever think of renting her out Lucius ol' boy?" he said chuckling at his own horrible innuendos.

Draco was absolutely disgusted at the thought of disrespecting any woman in such a way, but as it was Blaise Zabini's father and Hermione in reference, at his wedding none the less, he was particularly offended. Lucius on the other hand, didn't laugh at the remark, but almost appeared to consider it, causing Draco to be inexpiably angry, especially towards Blaise again… even though Draco knew he had nothing directly to do with this.

"Well of course she's beautiful, only the best for my son," answered Lucius loftily.

Zabini laughed, "Yes, the best of filth," he said, and laughed harder.

"Filth not even worthy for your hands, let me assure you Zanny boy," replied Lucius back coldly yet a friendly smile remained ever present on his face, "I'm afraid all of her dances are reserved that evening. But feel free to pine over my son's wife, since you're already most excellent at pining over the rest of my things. Now if you'd excuse us please, the owner of Gringott's requests our presence." And they left Zan looking quite foul.

Much to Pansy's dismay, Draco made it through the evening without ever catching up with the Slytherins that had been invited. He found himself to be feeling exceptionally foul and to his surprise was no longer eager to get away from the boring socialites.

Narcissa and Lucius, who had been most concerned with the embarrassment the wedding would bring to the family, had forgotten all about their worries. The party was quite successful and impressive.

All the pure families thought Hermione was so beautiful that they didn't seem to focus on her heritage, and the ones who did hold it against her knew about the set up anyway. Besides, the muggle-tolerant of the group thought highly of the Malfoy's for announcing so publicly and unapologetically their mixing of blood. All in all the Malfoy's were quite popular, and if anything, Hermione had helped them more than shunned them.

But like the rich generally do, they soon forgot the very point of the party, honoring Hermione and Draco, and focused the attention on themselves. They were so busy telling their latest achievements to anyone who would listen, comparing paychecks and their children's O.W.L.'s and the like, that not a soul noticed that Hermione wasn't even at the last half of the party.

Everyone except for Draco however, who brooded next to his father for the rest of the night, watching the sun sink out of sight, feeling inexplicably horrible. He found himself wondering where Hermione was, only to finally decide she was probably sleeping after her little "romp" with Blaise. He was right, she was asleep, but she was not resting pleasantly.

… … …

_………Hermione kissed Ivan's cheeks and neck in soft quick smooches, running her fingers through his hair, her heart secretly pounding with anxiety._

_Much to her dismay Ivan clapped his hands on her butt and pulled her into him, aiming for an open kiss on the mouth. Coyly as she could, she let his thin lips and cold slimy tongue caress her closed lips, without making her disgust too obvious._

_He moved down to her neck, moaning and slobbering all over her as she looked over the back of the sofa to see if Harry was about to come in through the door. There was no one._

_Ivan was back at her mouth and she attempted to act shy once again. Getting frustrated but still somewhat distracted by his own excitement, he merely tongued at Hermione's mouth, shifting her beneath him._

_Immediately he began running his hands up her skirt to pull down her panties._

_'Bastard doesn't even believe in foreplay…' she thought angrily as she tried to roll over on top of him._

_Once there she tried to kiss his neck some more but this could only last so long with him. His hands went to the back of her dress to unzip it, so Hermione hastily sat up, pretending she needed air and to get her hair out of her face._

_"Someone might walk in…" she said, "Maybe we should just watch some telly?"_

_Ivan laughed, "__Vis__ household knows I like my privacy. No one comes knocking ven I have a girl wiv me," he finished with a grin._

_Hermione could've vomited, "My chauffer…" she said, "I'm expected back soon…"_

_"Don't you worry about vat," said Ivan, "My fadder is very persuasive, he will talk to your fadder…" he pulled her face back to his for a kiss, sliding up her dress once again._

_"No," said Hermione in a gasp, "I don't think that will work, my father is very protective, I'm not aloud out late…"_

_"Natasha," he said furrowing his brow, "You do understand vere are no second chance wiv me? All vee other girls think being a vittle "grounded" is worth it. Now, vere were we?"_

_Hermione slapped his hands away this time. Enough was enough, he wasn't going to settle down and there was no sign of her back up._

_Ivan looked at Hermione angrily, then his face slid into a devious grin. He grabbed her firmly by the hips and rolled on top of her. By this time Hermione was wriggling and protesting quite profusely._

_"No," she said firmly, "Don't! –stop," she added with even more exasperation._

_"Don't worry, I von't," he uttered, playing with her words._

_Hermione became furious; he knew exactly what he was doing. She was unwilling and yet he refused to stop. Men like this made her sick, and she had an undeniable urge to set him straight._

_She knew she was NOT supposed to harm him, just get the key, get the papers… and any items of manufacture… "whatever that means…" Hermione remembered thinking, but if Harry can blatantly disobey orders, then why couldn't she? ………_


	17. One on One

A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't updated, I hope a lot of you noticed that I never take this long! I actually gave up the internet connection on the comp I write on to another comp so I can only post when I steal back the internet for a bit. I'll try to steal it back more often till all the files on that comp are posted. In the meantime, please let me know what you think of this chapter!

… … …

Hermione's stomach grumbled intensely as she creaked open the door to Lucius's office. Narcissa wasn't kidding about not giving her breakfast, but Hermione wasn't surprised. Her impression of the Malfoys as pure evil still held strong and it was one of the many things that fueled her dedication to spying. However, her most prevalent motivation was the incident with Blaise, a strong reminder of her desire to see that the Death Eaters get what they deserve.

She wanted to go home so badly, and she wanted to go home under the conditions that the Malfoys and all the other Death Eaters were going to Azkaban. She was ready to put forth her best work.

Very little of the mid-morning sunlight crept through the thick burgundy drapes over the floor to ceiling windows as Hermione made her way silently to the hidden files she had previously discovered.

She wrote down the location of the letters and papers as well as what they were about. She felt compelled to copy down the names being used in the forged papers, as well as the cryptic initials used signifying who it is to and who it is from.

Once again Hermione accidentally looked at the shelves filled with dark magic. They seemed to be earnestly whispering her name, pulling her to them. She scowled at them, snapped her journal closed and hurried out of the office.

The staircase was so long and curved that Hermione kept her eyes on the floor as she quickly walked down it, not wanting to trip. When her feet hit the marble floor she rose her head up only to be looking Draco right in the face.

Her chest immediately filled with dread upon seeing him waiting there at the stoop of the stairs, not only because encounters with Draco like this one always resulted in harsh name calling and bullying as of late, but because it was very suspicious indeed that he would find her there.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked harshly much like Hermione thought he would.

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me mudblood," he barked, getting his "mudblood" in quite early that day.

"I was looking for Lucius," said Hermione.

"Bullshit," he said, "You know he's not here, he said yesterday he'd be gone all day, and you hate talking to him."

"Well it slipped my mind... besides, maybe I like annoying him. There's little I can do in the horrid place besides make his life as unpleasant as I am able."

Hermione attempted to slip by him and leave the entrance hall but Draco stepped with her, speaking icily into her ear, "Slipped your mind did it? You know who else was forgetful? That idiot Longbottom. Perhaps you shouldn't go around declaring yourself a genius if you're on the same level as that git."

"Don't you ever call Neville an idiot again!" Hermione barked, "And I've never declared myself a..." 'Oh what am I doing?' Hermione thought to herself, 'I will not stand here and be apart of his bullshit, arguing is what he wants!'

Draco's face contorted into satisfaction as he watched Hermione's cheeks heat up with anger. Disappointment came soon after as she finally managed to slip past him and hurried down the hall.

Feeling slightly silly and immature, he began to follow her, but his desire to be by her-er... get a rise out of her clouded his common sense.

"Don't you have anything better to do than follow me?" Hermione spat angrily when Draco didn't stop trailing her by the time she reached the library.

"Well actually I was invited to Cyrus's for some lunch and shopping by some old Slytherins."

"Why don't you go then and leave me alone!"

"Because I didn't very well want my lunch spoiled by the retelling of yours and Blaise's shag last night."

"What?" uttered Hermione, filling with a variety of emotions. Shock, complete embarrassment and finally anger at the mere memory of what actually happened and the totally incorrect insinuation of what Draco hinted happened.

"There were enough sluts in that group you know, Pansy's got it covered. And now there's you, as if I don't have to hear disgusting things often enough, thanks a lot," Draco said with much fire.

Hermione very mad now, that Draco would think such things and call her a slut, but she was also confused... Even if that's what he really believed to have happened, why would he care so much? "The only sluts in that group are you and all your other pathetic friends with their penises for brains!" she said firmly and stormed off, eager to get far away from him she was so fuming.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded to know, still following her.

She slipped into a door, "Leave me alone!" she screamed, finding herself in the ballroom Draco had turned into his gym.

"Get out!" she screamed again when he followed her in. Reliving the horrible ordeal with him of all people was making her terribly upset, and she felt herself approaching her wits end.

"It's my house," Draco smirked, "This is my room!"

"What do you want?" said Hermione, running out of patience.

"For you to admit you're a whore," he said harshly.

Finally she couldn't take it anymore. Hermione picked up a basketball and hurled it at Draco with all her might! To her dismay, he caught it. She screamed in frustration. "What's it to you what I do with my life?" she cried.

Draco took a shot at the hoop, hoping it would fall on her head since she was standing right under it, but she dodged out of the way and caught it on its first bounce.

She was disappointed in her own immaturity... that she had actually thrown the ball at him out of anger. She decided to keep the ball and to not again sink to his level.

"If I can't be with any girls then you sure as hell can't be with any boys," Draco finally answered, "My friends to say the least!"

Hermione finally decided to set the record straight, "First of all, I WASN'T with any boys! Your so-called "friend" attacked me in the fucking pool house you stupid git!"

Draco furrowed his brow. Instantly her story did seem a lot more plausible than what he had so hastily assumed. Of course Blaise had come onto her... she was beautiful and he was a scoundrel... it would've been so out of character for Hermione to want Blaise.

He felt so stupid for jumping to conclusions that were so opposite of their personalities. He had been wrong... had called the poor innocent victim of a sexual assault a whore, how can a person feel more terrible? Oh of all the people to be wrong with... she'd never let him forget it if he apologized... the embarrassment would never go away... He got angrier, not wanting her to make him out to be the fool. 'Don't let her know you feel bad...' he thought, 'don't let her know your sorry... she can't know you even care, just be cool Drac...'

"You're lying," he said, shaking his head.

But Hermione had already seen the realization on his face.

"No I'm not," she told him smugly, knowing he knew now he had been wrong. She checked the ball at him firmly and pulled down the waistband of her skirt a bit. Four bruised marks were visible on her hip from where a hand had dug into her flesh, trying to pull her in.

Draco stared at her exposed curvy hip. It would have been quite a seductive sight, had not her creamy skin been black and blue. Hermione looked at Draco stare at where she had directed his eyes. "Why the fuck would I want a Slytherin anyway?" she added in bitter triumph and turned to go.

She knew she shouldn't, that she should just let it drop, but she couldn't resist, "If you had gone to Cyrus today," she turned back and said, "and that pig Blaise was there, you would've notice he'd be having a difficult time eating. I nearly bit his tongue off. So if you and Lucius don't want an incident at the wedding, you'll do well to keep him the hell away from me."

Draco glared at her, he shook his head, pissed and embarrassed. 'Psssh,' Draco was telling himself, 'Psssh,' again, 'who cares if I was wrong in accusing her of being a whore... it's just Hermione... I'm not ashamed... I'm not embarrassed...I don't even care...'

Was she still looking at him?

'Act cool," he thought, 'You don't care Drac'.'

"Brushing off" the incident he took a shot with the ball to the hoop... much to his surprise he missed.

Hermione caught the rebound with ease and scoffed a bit.

"Oh like you could do better!" he said, very angry now, and extremely defensive. His distress must have been obvious.

Hermione scowled at him and took a shot. She cursed out loud when she missed as well. The ball bounced away to Draco.

"I thought as much..." said Draco cruelly, dribbling confidently.

Hermione began to walk straight towards him, and Draco didn't know what to make of it. She looked him sternly in the eyes without falter. He watched her approach with defensive curiosity.

Suddenly he no longer had the ball and she was the one dribbling it. Draco had hardly felt it happen.

"I never played offense," spat Hermione in her defense, "I was always a guard."

Draco swatted his hand at her, trying angrily to get the ball back. He was unsuccessful as she turned in a circle. Hermione smiled coyly.

Draco was frustrated. He was excellent at shooting, but since he always played alone, he knew nothing about stealing, blocking, or sneaky plays.

He tired once again to get the ball but Hermione did another circle, he tried to go around her but she glided away from him, her elbows out and her feet quick to move.

Draco, getting more embarrassed and therefore angry, scowled. "Doesn't matter one bit," he said smugly, "I bet you couldn't even make it from this line."

Hermione, slightly nervous, stepped on the line and attempted anyway. She missed. She had always been a horrible shot.

Draco's smug smirk returned as the ball came to his hands again.

Hermione cocked her head at him. He knew she was going to try and take it again. He was ready, he was watching her, he was dribbling carefully, he was-

"Fuck," he spat.

She had taken it again.

She dribbled it down and shot from the side, miraculously making it that time.

"My ball" she said smirking boastfully, taking his place at the free throw line. He was facing her, he was going to get the ball from her this time... he was going to steal it like she had... he was going to take it right from her... he- he let her slip right past him! By the time he turned around she was at the hoop again, attempting the same side shot, but missed that time.

"My ball," Draco growled firmly.

And thus continued Draco's first game of one-on-one. Although Draco was a marvelous shot, Hermione was marvelous defense. Quite an interesting side turning game resulted, for every time Draco got the ball Hermione got it back and usually missed. However, every now and then she made it. But at the same time, every once in awhile Draco would get past Hermione and get a shot, and he was also learning to steal the ball remarkably fast.

The more he picked up the more he practiced the techniques aggressively against Hermione, but she continued to challenge him.

It was unclear when it dawned on both of them that they were laughing and having fun during their competitive and intensely physical competition.

"Who is winning?" asked Hermione suddenly, "I haven't been keeping track."

"I am," said Draco after a short pause.

Hermione laughed, "Believable," she quipped sarcastically.

He looked at her menacingly, "Next point wins."

"Right then," said Hermione, facing him as he dribbled, ready to take the ball from him.

Draco forced her half way to the hoop with his new skills, but Hermione managed to steal it last minute, take it to the hoop and... miss. Draco got the rebound; Hermione scowled as he took his stance and threw the ball up. To her surprise, and his, it hit the rim and bounced off.

"Ooooh," cried Hermione, smiling at the opportunity to narrowly win as they both took off running down the floor, both desperate to get the ball.

They dived at the same time and hit the hard floor with a thud. Four scrambling arms reached for the ball, causing it to pop up into the air and bounce a few feet away. They began crawling towards it on their bellies. Finally Draco had enough sense to push himself up and run after it. Hermione desperately grabbed onto his ankles to stop him.

"Foul! Foul!" Draco called out laughing, trying to pry her away. He stumbled over and fell on his butt.

Hermione popped up and went after the ball. Draco was up again soon after. Hermione bent over to pick up the ball but turned only to have Draco plow right into her.

She fell backwards onto her elbows, which would have been painful had Draco not wrapped his arms around her to slow the fall and soften the blow. But, doing so meant going down with her and they both collapsed onto the ground.

Immediately they both started laughing. Draco stopped first, having finally noticed he was on top of her, his body between her spread legs. He propped himself up on his arms and Hermione propped herself up on her elbows. She wasn't fully aware of the position yet and turned to see where the ball had bounced off too. Craning her neck resulted into her chest pressing into Draco's

Feeling his hard broad chest meet her breasts, Hermione turned her head back, only to find Draco looking down at her, starting at her neck and mouth. He pulled his focus out to her whole face.

Her attention was drawn to his surprisingly perfect lips due to his mouth being slightly open, he was gently catching his breath. However this did nothing for his heartbeat, which she could feel was hard and fast.

The realization of the fun they just had, as well as the undeniably pleasant sensation of having someone so factually attractive between her legs and the unsinking feeling that he didn't want to move troubled Hermione.

"Why are you so mean to me?" she finally asked softly. It had taken all she could muster to work up the guts to ask.

Draco looked her in the eyes... not knowing what to say.

Hermione's stomach growled.

"You haven't eaten anything all day," Draco said, mostly to himself, "Go get some lunch.

He got up off her and exited the gym leaving her there on the floor with her unanswered question.

Hermione didn't see Draco again for the rest of the day, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about that.

To distract herself from either thinking of Draco, which was just plain odd, or being bored, she put on some Coldplay and went through some of the things Lucius had given her for being good at the engagement party.

She played solitaire with a deck of cards and then painted a small picture of a beautiful smoky white horse galloping along the shore of the creek, behind him a bluff and array of leaves changing throughout a beautiful spectrum of color. Only much to her dismay, solitaire made her lonely, and painting made her long desperately for home.

She did the only thing she could think of to speed her progress of getting out of there. She went over her journal for hours, adding some more details here and there of what she wanted to hand over to the Order, wondering when and how they'd make contact again.

Plaguing her mind for rhyme or reason to any of her findings made Hermione very tired and she felt particularly alone that evening. She decided to get into her covers with Crookshanks and hopefully just drift into a peaceful nights sleep for once...

… … …

..."_Don't worry, I von't," he uttered, playing with her words_

_Hermione became furious; he knew exactly what he was doing. She was unwilling and yet he refused to stop. Men like this made her sick, and she had an undeniable urge to set him straight._

_She knew she was NOT supposed to harm him, just get the key, get the papers... and any items of manufacture... "Whatever that means..." Hermione remembered thinking, but if Harry can blatantly disobey orders, then why couldn't she? ..._

_Ivan let out a high-pitched surprised gasp as he felt the sharp sting of Hermione's slap. Hermione could see the anger flush on his face and frustration in his eyes._

_Hermione let out a similar surprised gasp when Ivan had taken her by complete surprise and slapped her back. Not only did he slap her harder but then he continued to try and remove her shirt._

_Hermione was shouting and trying to wiggle free from beneath him quite profusely now. Ivan tried to pin her deeper into the sofa, while Hermione tried to beat on him with her fists despite her lack of room to gain any momentum to her swings. _

_"HARRY!" she screamed._

_"Who is Harry!" Ivan asked angrily. He ripped her shirt open. Finally Hermione wiggled her leg in between his and kneed him right in the groin. _

_He cried out in pain and rolled off of Hermione and the sofa, crashing into an all glass coffee table. The commotion was so loud; someone should have definitely heard it._

_Free from his grasp, Hermione rushed to the door and listened against it, to see if anyone was coming. _

_She heard him approach too late. She turned to face Ivan, who had gotten up and staggered over. He cornered her at the door only to slap her again. Apparently he wasn't done, nor giving up. He had a few cuts, but pain couldn't stop his anger._

_"HARRY!"__ Hermione screamed again, "HARRY HELP ME!"_

_Next she was punched in the face, and then, the gut. The pain silenced her and she motionlessly clutched herself for a moment, desperate to regain her focus. She choked for air, frantically trying to gather back the wind that had been knocked out of her. She began to murmur protests._

_"Shut up," said Ivan, now focused on getting her bra off._

_Slowly coming out of her pain induced daze, Hermione grabbed tufts of Ivan's hair from the side of his head and cracked his forehead down onto her own. _

_While he was doubling back, clutching his forehead, Hermione slid away against the wall but Ivan was unrelenting. He lumbered towards her, grunting in anger and agony, attempting to grab her again, resulting in a violent dance between the two of them throughout the room, screaming and crashing into shelves and tables adorned with expensive decorations and artifacts, some falling to the ground and shattering._

_Hermione finally fell to the ground. Ivan rolled her over onto her back and straddled her. He slapped her once more. Hermione, terrified and in pain, finally just started to cry, no longer struggling against him. Ivan sighed with satisfaction and scooted up Hermione's skirt. _

_To Hermione's disgust he undid his pants, but only to stick his own hand down there. Hermione had enough sense to know what she was in for, Ivan was thinking that he had beaten her. But while the pig had his eyes closed tightly as he pleasured himself before turning on Hermione, Hermione looked about the destruction they had created on the floor. A vase was near her, and she acted fast._

_The vase broke into pieces on Ivan's head. His head then rolled about awkwardly on his shoulders before he finally dropped to the floor._

_Hermione squirmed out from beneath him, still afraid someone would come because of the crashing noise. She looked around frantically for her top... for the key... for Harry to come... for anyone to come. She didn't know what to do first!_

_"Focus Hermione!" she told herself, as she staggered about the room, dazed and winded by pain and fear._

_Ivan began to stir._

_"You've got to be kidding me!" thought Hermione, "This guy won't stop!"_

_Her wand! Where had it gone? She dashed over to her purse and began rummaging through it... "Where is it!" she thought anxiously, digging through the objects in the bag... _

_"Don't move," said Ivan's furious yet slurred voice. Hermione felt the unmistakable point of a wand in her back._

_"My father vill hov you killed for this you stupid bitch," he said._

_Hermione's instinct and adrenaline took over next when she whipped herself around, grabbed the hand Ivan was holding his wand with and twisted it back towards himself while at the same time pointing her own wand that she had just barely grasped at him with her other hand as well._

_"STUPIFY!"_

_They both had screamed it at once._

_And both wands shot into Ivan._

_Finally, finally, she appeared to have stopped him from continuing to pursue her as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, leaving nothing but the whites to be seen and he stopped moving. His mouth gaped open, filling with drool as his bottom lip quivered. _

_She breathed in utter relief as he went limp with unconsciousness and he slumped to the floor like dead weight. She looked at his body as his foot twitched uncontrollably and knew the Order would be furious with her, but what did she care? Her body still ached from the pain he had inflicted upon her, her heart still racing from her level of fear._

_"Harry?" she tried once again, knowing it was in vain, tears falling silently down her cheeks ..._


	18. What you don't know can hurt you

A/N: So here's the next chapter, be sure let me know how you liked/hated it please!

… … …

Whether or not Draco was curious to see Hermione after their basketball game, just to see how things… _felt_, or if Hermione was curious as well, Narcissa made it impossible.

She dragged Hermione around town with her for the next few consecutive days in a row, fitting her reception dress, getting preemptive hairdo's planned, sampling about a billion different styles of cakes and showing Hermione the dinner options, all of which she only paid half attention to.

Flowers, doves, bubbles, as beautiful as they would have been at any other wedding than this one, Hermione just didn't care.

She was tired of being mentioned and inaccurately portrayed in the paper, she was tired of meeting rich snotty socialites, she was sick of choosing champagne and caviar and she was definitely sick of spending all day with Narcissa. It had been five days in a row now, and she was exhausted.

"Oh god why can't this wedding just come and be over with!" she groaned internally, "I want the Order to come and take over NOW so I can go home!"

The Daily Prophet didn't help make her feel better either. Rita Skeeter was back to her old tricks now that Hermione was forbidden from telling on her unregistered animagi by Lucius. Her headlines such as "Hermione, soon to be Malfoy: the biggest diamond you've ever seen" and "Lucius Malfoy for numerous Ministry reforms: building a better world for all" was enough to make her dry heave.

She was also unnerved. Ron said they'd contact her again. "Soon" were his words. He made it sound like they were eager to see what the whole point of the wedding was….Well, the bloody wedding was tomorrow and they hadn't contacted her yet!

Hermione only assumed that meant they'd be close by, ready to act, incase Hell did in fact unleash itself onto the Earth the very second they both said "I do" or whatever equally devastating result Voldemort was hoping for took place. So where were they now? Why didn't they want to know what she had been finding out? Just because forgery and affiliation with the Russian Magical Mafia didn't seem directly related to why Voldemort would ever want her and Draco to wed didn't mean that the Order shouldn't be interested in what she had discovered.

She climbed into her bed, it was early but she was tired, and immediately Crookshanks jumped up too, pawing at her, making his little bed next to her, joining her in trying to sleep.

Instead of being nervous about the wedding like she thought she would be she found herself quite angry. Sure, maybe her discoveries really didn't have anything to do with why Voldemort wanted them married, but Ron seemed to think sneaking fake money into Gringotts was interesting enough to say the least! She could tell from Ron's reaction that something was definitely going on and she wanted to know what they knew! Who knows how much time they had! She wanted to hand over her copies of the documents from Lucius's office, help them fill in any possible pieces of a puzzle they weren't fully revealing to her, but she also wanted them to hand over _other_ information too.

She had found herself wondering about Harry quite often that week whilst trying to block out Narcissa. Well actually, to be perfectly honest, Draco would pop into her mind first.

But of course that was absolutely ridiculous and needed to stop immediately.

Harry is what she made herself come up with when she would desperately scan her brain for non-Draco thoughts.

It was then that her unanswered questions were beginning to take their toll on her once more. She didn't know if she wanted to stay awake with her troubling thoughts, or to drift off to sleep and let her nightmares of the past undoubtedly return…

… … …

_ ………"The key, the key, where's the fucking key," Hermione whispered to herself, her hands shaking, random cuts along her arms, her cheek swelling up more each second._

_Her breathing was rapid and shallow, and she looked frantically about the room. She tore everything out of a letter writing desk, but found nothing. All she could think of was how disappointed the Order would be with her. They trusted her with this role; they believed she could do this for them. Dumbledore said he believed the documents she was after would prove all traitors guilty in the ministry._

_This would have been so much easier if Hermione had just frozen Ivan like planned, and then have Harry come in and retrieve the keys whereabouts from his mind. But Harry wasn't there. And getting those papers was crucial._

_ 'Screw the bloody key,' thought Hermione, gripping her wand, 'and screw leaving no trace, I'll blast my way into Brusto's office….'_

_A group of tall looming men entered into the now destroyed room, each in dark cloaks, faces looking menacing. Their broad shoulders blocked off the exit completely. Hermione froze. Fear overcame her._

_ "Bellatrix said we'd probably find you here," said the infamous Brusto Karkaroff himself………_

… … …

"You wanted to see me?" said Draco dully, standing in the door way of his Father's dim den. It was very late, and Draco really didn't want to deal with his father just then. He was at his wits end trying to figure out what the bloody hell was up with him constantly thinking about lying on top of Hermione (not to mention her damned question!) and with the wedding the next day he really didn't have the energy to put up with anything else.

Lucius looked up from some paperwork, his eyes fierce. An evil smile spread thinly across his face.

"Big day tomorrow…" he said.

"Really?" drawled Draco, "I wasn't aware."

"My, my, aren't you funny," said Lucius firmly, "Perhaps I should turn you loose and see how far you make it in the world as a comedian."

Draco looked down at his feet.

"Speaking of everything I've given you…" Lucius sneered. He pulled out a six foot long package wrapped in shiny green gift wrapping from behind the table on the floor.

Draco eyed it.

"Go head," said Lucius "Open it."

Draco ripped off the paper. His eyes read the name on the box. "No way…" he huffed under his breath, prying the box open, just to make sure it was true. A Firebolt 3000.

"These aren't due out till next year," Draco managed to say, holding it lightly in his palms like it was a priceless and fragile diamond. It floated a few centimeters above his hands, power was emanating from it.

"I know," said Lucius, smiling smugly.

Draco was used to being spoiled. Possessions had definitely replaced quality time and loving affection when he was young, but this, _this_, was a lot, even from Lucius.

He watched his son stare hypnotically at the broom. "Don't look so surprised," he said, "It makes us look bad."

Draco looked up at his father in confusion. "What?" he asked.

"Our lifestyle, as luxurious as it already is, is about to take another step up," he said matter-of-factly, "We're better than other people Draco, and they know it. They'll all be watching us, so please, look the part."

Draco noticed the black velvet sack full of galleons on Lucius's table for the first time since entering the room.

"That's only the beginning," whispered Lucius, watching Draco notice the grand sack of money.

"Where'd it come from? Why is it here?" asked Draco, bewildered.

"I told you the Dark Lord would bless us for what we're doing..."

'"We"!' scoffed Draco angrily in his mind, if only Lucius comprehended what this crazy marrying Hermione thing had been doing to him!

"Can you believe not killing that filthy mudblood is finally paying off? It's all going according to plan, Draco, and we couldn't be more pleased. This money will buy those in the ministry too afraid to step up and support blood-purifying some balls. And if it won't pay for their allegiance then it will pay for their funerals."

Draco looked at him, unable to hide his shock.

"It's time we start doing something, _really_ doing something, about all these mudbloods and muggle-lovers," said Lucius firmly.

A horrible feeling gathered in the pit of Draco's stomach. He didn't understand what it meant but what could he do? He swallowed hard, gave a weak nod and then forced a malicious smirk.

His father took it as a modest understanding. "Excellent…" he said, "You may go."

'Go?' thought Draco, very, very disappointed, 'But you didn't say where all that money CAME from, and I can't ask again…' And was Lucius really planning to use this new found wealth to manipulate the Ministry? But how would he ever get away with that? He sighed and turned to go, for some reason sensing his feeling of dread might leave him if he put some distance between himself and Lucius.

"Oh and by the way," Lucius called after him, "Marvelous news, a very dear friend of mine just owled me saying he can make it to the wedding. I can't wait for you to finally meet Brusto in person, so please, practice your expression for next time someone gives you something like a Firebolt 3000, and try not to look so surprised."

Draco closed the door behind him. Suddenly he shivered. Something big was coming, Draco could sense it. There was an excitement concealed in Lucius that he was dying to let out. Was he really capable of starting an official and massive movement of impure-blood cleansing? But how? And would he actually go through with it? Even worse, would he expect Draco to help?

Would Draco help?

… … …

_ ………Ginny was in a hurry now, she wasn't supposed to make any unexpected stops. She should be back by now; they had the rest of the next mission to plan. What if they noticed she had been gone so long? What if they were worrying about her? She looked back to the dodgy tavern._

_All day, all night… stuck in __Grimmauld Place__ with all the comings and goings. Her brothers pranking, her mum fretting, her "best friends" hooking up behind her back. She needed time to herself, to be out of that bloody house. She needed to brood over a nice foamy mug of butterbeer. _

_The butterbeer in the tavern, which Ginny had never been to before, wasn't nearly as good as Honeydukes, but it did the trick sure enough._

_Besides, everyone knows you don't go to taverns like that for the drinks, but for the conversation. And boy did Ginny let it all out. _

_A strange looking man next to her asked how she was, and had she told him…_

_Ginny scoffed as she looked back now, he probably had no idea what she had been venting on and on about… with how the whole 'important mission could be thrown because of their secret romantic feelings for each other'… that their 'selfish sloppiness could put everyone in danger'. It all must have been childish nonsense or work related gibberish to him._

_ "…And now, back at the house," Ginny had said, "Harry is arguing with Remus about… well, about what he's allowed to do and whatnot and it's been going ALL BLOODY DAY, I mean I just couldn't take it anymore, I had to get out of there, you know?"_

_ "This boy you speak of, you liked him once, didn't you?" said the peculiar man. _

_ "It was just a crush," said Ginny, looking into her glass, "He never showed any signs of ever officially wanting to be with me."_

_ "But that girl, your friend, she should've known better no?"_

_ "Well I thought so…" said Ginny_

_ "Listen to me little girl," said the man, "These people are not your friends."_

_ "What?" said Ginny, surprised by this man's bluntness. Suddenly she felt uncomfortable, but the man went on._

_ "They are selfish, reckless and don't care about your feelings."_

_ Ginny didn't know what to say. Yeah she had been a bit upset with them, but she had never directly thought they didn't care about her. Now that the idea was in her mind once and for all she realized its absurdity. _

_ Of course they cared about her! She knew that no matter what. And she cared about them. They didn't mean to hurt her, this man, this stranger in the tavern … He was wrong._

_ "Besides," he went on, "you said so yourself, they're endangering the Order."_

_ Ginny froze. She hadn't mentioned anything about the Order had she? Her heart began to flutter, "What did you say?"_

_ "The others," he said. "They're endangering the others."_

_ "Oh," said Ginny, "Yeah I suppose. I, uh… really better get going…"_

_ "OK deary," said the man, who seemed more like a stranger than ever to her now, "Just remember, you're always welcome here."_

_ "Thanks," said Ginny, already half way out the door._

_ The man smiled._

_ Ginny looked back at the tavern, thinking now that going there felt wrong, that she made a mistake. She probably wouldn't mention it to anyone._

_ In the meantime she needed to talk to Hermione………_

… … …

_………"I've just finished speaking with Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore to Lupin, the two alone in the dark kitchen, lit only by a small fire. It must have been near four in the morning._

_ Lupin just looked at Dumbledore, completely exhausted and looking rather troubled._

_ "I believe he is necessary if things are to work," said Dumbledore. "We need him to protect our undercover agent, since begrudgingly we all feel Hermione is best for the part… and we also need him…well, because of the obvious mind reading talents he's developed with Snape ever since…" Albus trailed off, Lupin however, understood, "…well, he's needed because of his obvious talents." Dumbledore concluded._

_ Lupin merely looked down, "If you say so Albus." He paused for a minute, "I'm sorry; I just didn't know what to do… I mean can you blame the kid? I'd want to go after her too, but it's just its not the right time, I was afraid he was planning to rebel."_

_ "Oh I understand completely Remus," said Dumbledore, "No one blames you, in fact I'm sure Harry would've gone his own way if we hadn't dissected the situation like we have. Now I believe he understands. He has given me his word. I believe we can trust him to follow only our instructions."_

_ "Well if you trust him to be in this mission then that's good enough for me. I just- I just needed to make sure," answered Lupin. "Perhaps I'll apologize to him in the morning for doubting his loyalty."_

_ "Oh I wouldn't beat yourself up too bad Remus," said Dumbledore softly, "You had every reason to be concerned after the way he reacted. I'm thankful you handled it as nicely as you did."_

_ "I'm just glad you're back in town for a good while now Albus," said Lupin with a sullen chuckle, "I'm getting too old to handle such youthful wizards here all by myself… Merlin, I miss Sirius… he knew how to handle them. Hell, he was practically one of them."………_


	19. The happiest day of your life Part 1

A/N: OK, this chapter was GIGANTIC before I even sent it to my beta, and then when I got it back I added even MORE. Needless to say, when it was like 27 pages on font 12, I decided I better cut it in half and make 2 chapters, the day of the wedding, and then later that night. I've got the next one all ready to go, but I won't post it till I get reviews! So you better tell me what you think damn it! Muahahaha!

Also, personally I think these 2 chapters are harsh and sad, there are lots of unhappy realizations and turn of events… but I don't want to bum everyone out now do I? For all of you D/Hr lovers or HP pervs out there I hope the chapter after the next makes my story a little less sad to read!

Anyways, REVIEW PLEASE!

… … …

"I'm up, I'm up…" said Hermione groggily, swatting away the probing pokes of Bubsy.

"Hurry miss, lots to do, must get up!" she squeaked with a little jump, then she ran to the window and pulled open the drapes, hoping the penetrating sunlight would make Hermione perk up.

"It's so early…" Hermione said in the middle of a yawn.

"Master Malfoy would like a word Miss Hermione, come with me I'll take you," she squealed, gently tugging on Hermione's arm.

"But I'm in only a nightdress…" Hermione protested.

"Never mind Miss Hermione, we must go," she insisted.

… … …

Draco was waking on his own the same time Bubsy was collecting Hermione. Not that itwas that hard, since he had slept so fitfully the entire night anyways.

He was still very tired when he woke, yes, but he still didn't know whether or not he officially woke in a foul mood. The dreams he was having, even though they were interrupted by stress and anxiety that stopped his slumber nearly ever few hours, were filled with a girl…

They were kissing passionately, they're hands roaming up and down each others backs and necks, her legs would wrap around him and she would kiss him most playfully. However, an extremely odd element of the dream was that her face was a mystery to him, he couldn't register who the beautiful lady was… yet he couldn't help but feel within himself he knew who it was without a doubt, and that he knew her very well. Also, the dream had an intense rushing feel to it, like something was going to come and take her away, leaving Draco devastatingly sad. The fear that something was coming made Draco so distracted that he would occasionally wake up with an intense feeling of dread and look around his room in a sleepy daze. Nothing was there. And when he slowly laid his head back down to sleep again, her presence would flood the back of his eyelids and a happy passionate feeling would swirl once again in his chest.

Another thing that unsettled Draco's nerves a bit was that the dream never seemed to progress. Not that he didn't mind kissing this girl for endless hours, but it felt as if he was suspended in a timeless space, that the thing that was coming for her would also be there, but never come about, and that his dream self would never acknowledge who she really was. They hadn't even gotten to the pinnacle of their love fest yet and Draco was already overcome with an intense pleasurable tingling feeling all over him. Just holding the girl in his arms and kissing her made him so happy and content, as if he had obtained something he had been trying his whole life to get, but never thought he would!

But as the dream continued on throughout the night and Draco never seemed to get any further with the girl than that, his body began to ache with anticipation and desire… he wanted her so bad. As it neared to time to wake, Draco did one last aggressive toss in his sleep; he was clutching his pillows and subtly kicking his feet.

Draco rolled her over so she was beneath him, "Baby…" he said huskily to the girl wrapped around him passionately kissing his neck and tonguing at his earlobe, he was still unable to see her face… He kissed her neck then whispered softly in her ear, "Let me make love to you…"

The last thing Draco remembered before his clock went off was the girl's smiling satisfied face before the dream disappeared in a flash and his eyes opened.

He lay still in his bed for a moment because he definitely needed to get it together. While the good feeling of the dream still lingered around him, the last second of the dream was burning into his consciousness; now that he was fully awake and the image was so fresh in his memory he knew it was undoubtedly Hermione's face.

Not that he was that surprised.

In fact, he was even wondering if he had had that dream before. It seemed so familiar… but dreams in their nature are so random in their consistency and being able to remember them that there is no way of telling for sure. There was just no denying it; he yearned badly to have her. He was even fantasizing uncontrollably of the pleasure he so desperately craved from her.

Now a subconscious choice, does he get out of bed in a good mood because that's how he feels while he's dreaming… or does he let the utter and terrible frustration of knowing he truly wants Hermione's body so badly but can't ever get her ruin his whole temperament? After all, not getting what he wants was a very new concept for Draco to try and understand.

In the end he just sighed and couldn't believe he was actually getting married in just a few hours.

… … …

Bubsy led her to Lucius' office, but left her just outside of it. In fact, she scurried away in a hurry looking quite concerned, like a scared dog trotting away, its tail between its legs and pointed ears flattened down. Hermione guessed she didn't fancy actually encountering Lucius and was eager to get away. Hermione knew the feeling well.

She approached the door, it was slightly ajar and she heard voices…

"Yes well she'll stay till December I'd imagine, till the very end, until it's absolutely official."

'Until what is official?' Hermione thought, pausing outside the room, 'The wedding is official after today… what is in December?' She remained on the other side of the room, listening in.

"And then what's to become of her?" asked a deep scratchy voice.

"I do not know, whatever the Dark Lord tells me to do with her," answered Lucius.

"Perhaps I'll see if my son would like her…" the voice went on faintly…

'Who is that? I know that voice…' Hermione wondered, leaning towards the door to hear better, her hand pressed flat against it.

"…I think the Dark Lord would allow it don't you think?"

Lucius chuckled, "Perhaps, you'll have to see, in the mean time I better go…"

Hermione sensed Lucius was about to say goodbye, possibly say the persons name in doing so... She leaned in closer, desperate to overhear… her hand pushed on the door and unluckily for her the door creaked.

Lucius face snapped towards the door. Hermione saw it through the crack and decided to pretend she was just abruptly entering. She could tell he was standing by the fireplace, talking by floo just as she suspected.

She opened the door all the way now, wanting to get further into the room so she could see the fireplace at a better angle, trying to catch a glimpse of the head before it would disappear. Unfortunately Lucius looked back at the fireplace and gave a curt nod, and Hermione heard the crackling pop.

Just as she would have been able to see who it was, the head was gone.

Lucius stared at her intently, his stern face appeared to be quite pleased, perhaps he was in a good mood.

"Do come in," he said pleasantly.

Hermione stepped further into the room as Lucius walked away from the fireplace and opened the small section of his floor to ceiling window. Four different owls flew in. Hermione recognized the tags on two of them to be of the Ministry's, the other two however, looked personal.

He nonchalantly removed the scrolls from the owls and read through them quickly, as if he did this everyday, "Been to my office before?" he asked calmly, still reading one of the letters.

Hermione looked at him uncomfortably, "Uh, no, you've never asked me here before."

"I know I've never asked you," said Lucius briskly, rolling back up the letter and looking up at her, "I asked you if you've been here before."

She glanced quickly to the hidden filing cabinet, scared for a moment, but seeing she left no sign of entering it. "No," said Hermione firmly.

Suddenly is dawned on her. The book Lucius had had face down on his desk, "Slytherins and their Success"… she had touched it hadn't she! Did she turn it back to its original page! She couldn't be sure…

'Bloody brilliant work Hermione!' she thought critically of her spy skills. 'Now Lucius suspects-'just then the biggest black crow Hermione had ever seen came zipping in through the open window so abruptly it interrupted Hermione's thoughts and caused her to jump from surprise.

He was an inky black, with black eyes that reflected his surrounding within them like a creepy dark mirror. In his talons, were numerous scrolls getting crushed in his claws. There were also broken brown and tan feathers stuck between his bird toes, as if he had been squabbling with other Owls. He looked at Hermione and cawed menacingly. He spread out his large wings and shook them as Lucius approached.

He looked at the bird lovingly and stroked it on its head, disgusting Hermione that anyone would regard such a dirty, mean bird fondly. He removed the numerous letters from its grasp. He shifted through them and smirked, walking back towards the fireplace. Hermione watched as he began to feed each letter to the fire one by one without even opening them, wondering why he didn't read them… she looked at the letters closely, trying to make out the return addresses.

Her stomach gave a sharp painful jolt as the light from the fire lit up the writing on the front. Did that one just say "Lee Jordan"?

Why would Lee Jordan be writing the Malfoy's?

She continued to stare, squinting into the bright light right before the parchment of the next letter crumpled up and turned to ash before her eyes.

'"Colin Creevey"?' she thought she read, '"Dean Thomas"? Gryffindors? But why…'

Oliver Wood, she continued to read, Ernie Mcmillian even! Oliver once more and then Colin again as well! No! Why would such people ever write to Lucius!

And then, she finally caught a glimpse of who they were addressed to as the flickering flames lit up all of the words; herself. The letters were to her, not to Lucius.

Lucius had be intercepting her mail and burning it.

Her friends were worried about her, worried about what they had been hearing; wanting to hear from Hermione herself if she truly was going to marry Malfoy because it was just so unbelievable. Hermione's lips quivered as she thought longingly of her friends, how sweet of them it was to worry, to try so desperately to get a hold of her, to not fall for the lies like everyone else until they heard it from her. In an instant anger filled her body as she watched Lucius to continue burning them. She hated him, so very much.

"How does your muggle world handle fire?" asked Lucius suddenly.

"Fire?" Hermione repeated harshly, surprised, confused and still very angry.

"When buildings burn down…" Lucius embellished his question vaguely, glancing at her briefly, seeing the look of hatred on her face.

Hermione knew he had showed her her letters intentionally, to get a rise out of her. She would not give him the pleasure of doing what he wanted, which was to get angry.

"Your kind doesn't have the smothering curse… which instantly puts out any blaze; tell me, do they really douse _everything_ in hose water?"

"Yes, they do," Hermione answered awkwardly, "…Well the fire department comes and does it," she was suppressing the rage he obviously wanted to bring out of her "and then an ambulance or something if someone is injured…"

Lucius looked up at her, as if he wanted her to go on, "Fascinating!" he said condescendingly, slowly feeding the flames another one of Hermione's letters right in front of her, knowing how nice it would be for her to read the comforting concerned words of a friend, and evilly enjoying stripping her of that comfort, "Please, tell me more."

"Then I suppose the police try and figure out what started the fire in the first place," she went on in annoyance.

"They usually figure it out don't they?" said Lucius.

"Most of them time I would suspect, yes," said Hermione, wondering what he was getting at.

"…like whether it started because of a candle or …arson?" said Lucius, staring at the flames, slightly smiling.

Hermione didn't respond.

"You know what they can't detect, those muggle police?" Lucius asked inquisitively.

Hermione still did not answer; she sensed Lucius had horrible intentions when he requested she come see him.

"Fires started by magic," he said conclusively in answer to his own question.

Hermione looked him in his dull gray eyes. She thought immediately of her home in muggle England… her parents…

He tossed the last of the letters into the fire all at once and smirked. "Today is very important Hermione, as I'm sure you're aware. You'll be watched very, very closely."

Hermione pressed her lips firmly together, restraining herself. This whole spectacle was to scare her into behaving. She managed a weak nod, avoiding his gaze.

"However, it is not just today that it is important," Lucius added.

Hermione was slightly surprised.

"The next few weeks, months even, are extremely imperative. I'm counting on you and Draco to be very, very, very convincing, _especially_ in front of my coworkers and the public eye. Be good Granger, and the Dark Lord may even regard you fondly. He may even spare your life, which, I can assure you, will be a rare reward given to someone of your heritage."

A feeling like no other overcame Hermione, the vague sensation of horror, fearing a world that may someday exist. A world where she may be the last muggle alive. Spared by the man responsible for the muggle annihilation himself because she played some terrifyingly important role in its manifestation!

There was a soft rap on the door.

Hermione and Lucius both turned to look. It was Sarah.

"Narcissa needs Hermione now," she said softly.

"Remember what I've said," said Lucius coolly. Shaking, Hermione turned away from his horrible face and left with Sarah.

"Are you alright?" asked Sarah as she led Hermione slowly down the hall.

Hermione walked with her eyes downcast to the carpet and did not reply. She could not reply, she just felt too helpless to do anything.

"Hermione…?"asked Sarah again, this time putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Hermione finally lifted her head. "What is that smell?" she quickly asked, now suddenly aware of a pungent stinging odor in the hall.

Sarah smiled, "That cat of yours, he scratched himself free and has been pissing all over hell ever since. Lucius can't catch him, it's fantastic."

Hermione grinned as her heart swelled. Crookshanks was okay after all! She knew he could take care of himself. "That's my boy," she uttered as they descended down the staircase.

… … …

The sticky brown muck gurgled and bubbled around Hermione. She was in a tub of cool clammy mud. Narcissa had insisted, claiming an herbal renewal ritual was custom to every Malfoy bride.

"You can't just _not _do it," Narcissa had shrieked and whined after Hermione's reactionary protest, "Besides, you'll look so beautiful afterward, and you'll feel good too. I never felt better after mine!"

Hermione looked apprehensively at the tub of wet dirt. On the counter behind it was an array of different potions Narcissa was planning on applying to Hermione. After some thought she decided she didn't need a whining Narcissa adding to her headache and low spirits. She thought it best to just to do as Narcissa said, no matter how revolting.

Much to her surprise, the mud actually felt quite good. She hummed softly and squished it between her toes as she suspected she smelled the presence of those skin nurturing plants Professor Sprout would mention in class from time to time. Her hair dangled over the edge of the tub, a house-elf massaging god knows what into it, while four other elves had both her hands, filing away and rubbing sweet oils into her skin.

Hermione heard the soft giggle of Sarah, who had returned with a bundle of white towels and thin white house dress.

"Quit laughing," said Hermione smiling, "and come over here and scratch my nose for me."

Sarah only laughed harder but did as Hermione asked.

"Ah, thank you so much," she said.

"Nervous?" Sarah asked.

Hermione thought for a second, "I was this morning, but now… not so much actually." The relaxing odors and essences of the plants were beginning to take their soothing effect on her, and secretly Hermione was thankful. They really had calmed her down. She hadn't a worry in the world really.

"Well that's good," said Sarah, "Now close your eyes, you need some purifying tea leaves on them for three minutes."

Hermione did as she was told, feeling quite silly since now she truly was a very helpless girl stuck in some mud, but it was pleasant enough that she let it go. "Ugh," she said, "these things smell like Trelawney…"

Sarah laughed and suddenly Hermione was giggling hysterically.

"Oh my, these odors are making me light headed… goodness, I feel stoned or something…"

Sarah only laughed harder, "It does smell really good in here," she said.

"Oh yeah, get down close to this stuff and breath it in for half an hour straight!" said Hermione.

"Hey! Guess what?" said Sarah excitedly, now rubbing a cream onto the skin of her face, "You get to meet my dad! He's coming to the wedding!"  
"Really?" said Hermione, "Terrific! When did you find out?"

"Well it's been in the works for a while now, but he's finally been convinced to come."

"Convinced?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, well…" Sarah said, her tone turning grimmer, "He was nervous about seeing old Ministry members he used to work with, but he got over it."

Hermione didn't fully understand, but didn't want to upset Sarah again by prying out information about her father. "Well I bet he didn't want to miss his only nephew's wedding day! Not to mention seeing you!" said Hermione.

Sarah scoffed. "Yeah I'm sure he can't wait to see me," she drawled sarcastically.

"What? I thought you were happy about him coming!" said Hermione.

"Yeah, until I remember what a negligent jerk he was when he visited last year, he spent the whole time with Lucius and ministry workers! I thought we'd spend the holidays together, just us! He ruined my whole Christmas andNew Years! I'm just scared he won't have anytime for me again, it looks like Lucius wants him to get together with old coworkers this time too!"

Hermione could tell Sarah was more hurt than angry and felt much sympathy for the girl, but she couldn't help but think it was extremely odd that Lucius would appear to want to "go out with the boys" so to speak with a brother he didn't even seem to like and said brother's old colleagues… but that didn't matter right then, all she wanted to do was cheer up Sarah.

"Oh Sarah," she said, "You said yourself that it was Lucius who was hogging him and that he seemed miserable. I bet he was miserable because he'd much rather be spending time with you! Which is exactly what he'll do this time! Besides if it makes you feel any better… I didn't even have a New Year's either, I was too busy planning for a mission I was just going to get captured in any way!"

Sarah smiled at Hermione, she had just cracked a joke about the most horrible thing that had every happened to her just to make her feel better, so she knew she better cheer up, "You're right," she said kindly, "I should just forget about that whole weird getting together with old Counters thing…"

"I agree," said Hermione proud she had helped, "Besides, I think it's great! I'll have someone I'm actually looking forward to meeting today."

Sarah laughed again, "Oh c'mon, it won't be that bad. Narcissa's gotten an orchestra! And surely the food will be delicious!"

"Sorry Sarah," said Hermione, "but there is no dinner in the world delicious enough to marry Malfoy for."

The two laughed again as the house-elves finished with her nails.

"I've laid out a trail of towels," explained Sarah, "You need to walk over to the shower and rinse everything off now. When you're done rub the stuff in this vial all over you."

"What is it?"

"Who knows, but it smells nice," she said laughing, "anyways, you relax, I've got to go lay out your dress…"

"Bye Sarah," Hermione said as she slipped deeper back into the tub, shutting her eyes and inhaling deeply.

'Relax,' she thought to herself… but she was finding that doing so was a bit harder than before. Suddenly all she could think of was the holidays… that Christmas she had spent with Harry… and the hectic all-nighters of mission planning that followed the next week in preparation of Brusto's party… Brusto's party… what had happened with Harry that night? She needed to know or else she'd go insane. But then again… it was hard to hold onto a thought, the smells really were making her quite sleepy…

… … …

"Lucius!" Narcissa cried out shrilly as she blared down the hall to his office, "Lucius!"

"What is it women?" roared Lucius, sticking his head out the door "I was just flooing with the hotel; we still need to set up the honeymoon portkey!"

"Well there may not be a bride to take to the hotel!" raved Narcissa looking furious, "That slayer man, he took her! Out to the woods! Insisted on her help!"

"What!" he exclaimed in surprise, "That's very unnecessary!"

… … …

Hermione jumped down from Proctor's steed, her white dainty house dress and hair blowing delicately in the wind while she removed the pages of her journal from a saddlebag.

"We must hurry," said Proctor, "She didn't seem too happy."

"Maybe if you hadn't showed up so unexpectedly I could've had a diversion set up!" said Hermione quite snappily.

Proctor frowned at her, "Hey," he said defensively, "things have been crazy lately; we must get things done right when opportunity presents itself…"

"Seems like shoddy planning to me…" Hermione in her fowl mood was mumbling to herself, "You'd think someone in the Order would have enough brains to realize how dangerous poorly planned missions can be…"

They went down the same ravine as before and Ron appeared out of the abandoned shack, however this time Hermione did not want to hug. The very sight of him made the hazy euphoria of the mud bath linger away.

She wasn't going to waste any time. She was sick of the all the wondering constantly eating away at her. She stormed up to Ron, "Is Harry with you?" she asked forcefully.

Instantly she became light headed, she probably wasn't supposed to be exerting herself, emotionally or physically, since she had all those wonky herbs in her system, but instead she just shook off the dizziness, denying that she even felt funny.

"No," said Ron, "He-" then his eyes widened, "Hermione…. You look amazing… absolutely gorgeous."

It was true, her skin glowed most beautifully and her hair was so light, long and curly it flowed with her every movement. Her sparkling youthful face and mesmerizing brown eyes stared intently at Ron.

"Never mind that now Ron," said Hermione earnestly, "I need you to tell me about Harry."

Ron looked at Hermione intently, "Ok Hermione," he said softly, "I will tell you, but first we need our mission debriefing."

Hermione rolled her eyes, 'Sure. Now the Order wanted to go by the book…'

"Tonks will be at the ceremony disguised as someone else, ready to protect you from whatever may happen directly after you're officially married, we can't tell who she'll be unfortunately, there's not supposed to be any interaction between you tw-" Ron began.

But Hermione was already shaking her head, "Nothing is going to happen right after," she interrupted, "The wedding was never planned for something to happen this day at this time Ron. I just over heard Lucius speaking with someone about how I'm somehow needed until DECEMBER! Now honestly," she said, growing more frantic, "I'm so sorry but I just don't think I can take it here for that-"

But Ron didn't look too shocked at her news, causing Hermione to slowly stop what she was saying and watch his expression angrily. The Order must have already suspected the same thing.

Why would they place Tonks in the ceremony if they already knew it was unlikely that she'd even be needed! Why wasn't the Order telling her everything!

Ron could tell by Hermione's pissed off expression that she was far more intuitive than the Order gave her credit for… "I'm sorry Hermione," said Ron, picking up where she trailed off, "Tonks is really stationed there just in case… I tried to hint before to you that you'd be here awhile after the wedding… I mean there's really nothing significantly large that Voldemort could do JUST as you're married… it's pretty easy to see that you're needed for more subtly secretive purpose. You're probably doing something for him so small that you don't even realize you're doing it…"

"I'm doing everything I possible can to not be an aid to Voldemort's progression Ronald! It's a tad difficult to not help him when you can't even get away from him!" she barked angrily.

"I know, I know Hermione," said Ron, "I wasn't implying that you were a willing participant, and I'm sorry! It's hard I know, but we really appreciate you spying for us, and we really need your inside perspective so we can figure out what he's up to before he's finished," he shook his head in annoyance, "Anyways, we've digressed, so December is significant you say? What the bloody hell is supposed to happen in December? Is there anything else you've found?"

Hermione shoved the excerpts of her recordings into Ron's hand. "This is from his office, which I think he knows I've been in, as well as some maps and schematics should you guys need to infiltrate the house… say, to maybe rescue me or something… that'd sure be swell…."

Ron said nothing to this, shifted through the map pages and looked down at the fake documents and signatures, "They get more and more real looking," he observed.

"Yeah," said Hermione, "Like someone has been practicing."

"Well they're bloody good now," added Ron, "If I didn't know better I'd think this one was authentic!"

"That's the point," said Hermione, "The goblins have already thought the money was real. And now their bribing people at the ministry left and right, probably for help in this forgery."

"But these documents are petty memos and letterheads," said Ron, "I mean… they don't mean anything."

"Yes, but they can probably create something more important, like fake announcements or, or, or a law or something."

"But no one would ever believe in a fake law, not with Fudge around," said Ron, "What are they playing at?"

"I don't know Ron!" said Hermione irritably, "that's why I'm giving them to you to take to Dumbledore. Now, what happened the night I was captured? I want you to tell me!"

"Hermione, Ronald," said Proctor suddenly, "I think someone is coming."

Ron nodded briefly to Proctor but quickly turned his attention back to Hermione, "Ok Hermione, but first I have to tell you something," he said, "Tonight at the wedding you'll see someone who'll make you upset but don't do anything radical, you're going to see Brus-"

"I don't care which idiot shows up tonight Ronald! I can handle the bloody wedding!" cried Hermione, looking frantically up the ravine for a sign of Lucius as Hannibal was looking as well, being particularly nervous that Ron was still there. He had dumped out a satchel filled with gray dust and drove a stake into the pile, faking a vampire's death…

"DID HARRY GO AFTER BELLATRIX OR NOT!" cried Hermione. She was surprised at herself for yelling, but was overcome by her intense anticipation for Ron's answer; she was unaware of the dangerously intense beating of her heart.

Ron's eyes looked heavy with remorse and worry, "Yes," he said softly.

Instantly her body turned ice cold. Hermione could not believe her ears.

"He did go after her," Ron went on, "but it's not what you th-"

The rest of Ron's words got drowned out by Proctor, who was earnestly telling Ron to go, because the pounding of horse hooves could be heard approaching fast, "Disapparate!" he cried to Ron, interrupting him.

But it didn't matter what Ron was going to say anyway, because it wouldn't be heard. Hermione had already turned away and began to run up the ravine. She was so shocked she didn't know what she was doing. Her head was woozy and her hands were shaking, all she knew was that she had to get away from Ron just then; she couldn't handle what he was telling her.

There was no way she wanted to believe.

She was growing weaker and weaker by the second, barely making it to the top of the steep hill when Lucius Malfoy skidded to a halt, the massive horse nearly plowing into her. It was all just too much.

Hermione fainted.

Proctor stood over the pile of gray dust he had set up. He looked reproachfully up at Lucius and shrugged his shoulders, "Got him," he said, gesturing to the staged vampire death.

… … …

"The fool!" Lucius roared, "Can you imagine if something had happened to you!"

Hermione said nothing to his angry ravings as she rode back with him. She was still a little lightheaded and the rocky movement of the horse did nothing to settle the uneasiness of her stomach. She could see the house looming closer in the distance. She was angry Lucius saw her faint. Hermione Granger is no distressed damsel! She didn't need him seeing her in a moment of weakness, and she never would have fainted if it wasn't for that stupid mud bath making her woozy…

Proctor had been paid, with no tip, and left in the other direction. Hermione could still hear Ron's weakly spoken "yes" in her ears. Yes, Harry had gone after Bellatrix Lestrange when he was supposed to be protecting her.

He had sworn to Dumbledore he wouldn't and he did. Even worse, he was unsuccessful, much like Lupin said he would be, and cost Hermione the mission. He had gotten her captured.

It was all his fault.

And now look where she was, a prisoner and a pawn in the hands of Malfoys and the Dark Lord.

Lucius took her straight to the house instead of the stable, "Go get your hair done," he said strictly, letting Hermione slip off before he turned and galloped back.

Narcissa came running out, "Ah!" she screamed, "I can't believe that man! I don't care if he did kill that Vampire finally, you shouldn't be exposed to fearful situations, or any emotional situations for that matter! The effects of the mud bath have made you to weak in that regard!"

"No really?" Hermione mumbled groggily.

… … …

"Come in," said Draco.

Lucius opened the door as Draco was standing in front of a mirror, straightening his tie. "Good Merlin," said Lucius, "Malfoy's look damn good in tuxedos."

Draco furrowed his brow, disappointed by the fact that he had been thinking the exact same thing just seconds before.

"Almost ready?" asked Lucius.

"Almost," Draco replied unemotionally.

Lucius put his hand on Draco's shoulder, "Draco, son, why the long face?"

Draco scoffed internally, it humored him so when his father would randomly pretend to be nurturing. He knew Lucius wasn't truly worried about him, even though it was obvious he was miserable, but more concerned about his ability to act convincing for the ceremony in a little bit. "What long face?" he said, giving a half smile.

Lucius scowled a bit. "We're going to be rewarded for this you know," he reminded him.

"I know," said Draco dryly, "You've told me." He turned away from the mirror and went to go put on his shoes.

Draco was quite sorry looking and Lucius knew he must be dreading the wedding, even though he was completely oblivious to the complicated thoughts Draco had been having towards Hermione. Never-the-less he insisted that a Malfoy, having power and riches beyond comprehension, should enjoy life, especially after working so hard for its rewards.

"I'll think of something," said Lucius, causing Draco to look back at him oddly, "Something that will cheer you up, you'll see. You've got 10 minutes," then he turned and left the room.

"Yeah," said Draco coldly, "think of something else to buy me."

… … …

Hermione stood stiffly just before the entrance of the aisle as the guests filed in from another entrance, her stomach turning more and more knots with each passing second.

Her dress was astonishingly beautiful, and she attempted to express her amazement to Sarah, who had designed it, but all her words came out soft and weak. She was so drained off all strength and emotion... she stood there like an empty shell, waiting for the marriage she didn't fully believe was happening to start.

She was a devastatingly beautiful shell though. Hermione still glowed with beauty beneath the five fluffy layers of her dress's skirt, the top layer being a sheer flimsy netting with shimmering diamonds interwoven in it. Her torso was wrapped elegantly with a soft silky fabric that shined in the light and snuggly squeezed her, showing off her classic figure. To add some accent since the dress was strapless, a single diamond dangled just above her supple cleavage. Her hair was up and her long curly eyelashes narrowly missed brushing her sheer white vale. She held in front of her a pretty and large bouquet of flowers, and if on any other occasion she would have felt like the most beautiful woman in the world.

However, despite the remaining glow and softness of her skin and her beautifully made up face, hair and dress, Hermione was expressionless, her facial color porcelain. Behind her alluring eyes was worry and dread. Her only thoughts were of what Harry had done to her, and what Lucius would do to her family if she didn't appease him. Hermione was certain she had never felt as miserable in her life.

She thought longingly of a few hours ago, when she was in the mud bath as it took its calming effect on her and she couldn't believe Narcissa had to talk her into it. Now, she would do almost anything to feel that carefree and content again.

Her stomach did another horrible flip as the masses of people instantly stop dead in their chatter as the sound of "Here comes the Bride" filled the chapel of the massive and extravagant church. She began to feel lightheaded again as a nice looking wizard posing as a substitute father figure took her arm in his and began to lead her down the isle, Sarah right behind her, holding her train. All the faces turned to look at her, either smiling warmly or smirking smugly. The ceiling was a hundred feet high and priceless stained glass went all the way up. She got so woozy she began to feel outside of herself, floating up above the entire audience, watching the beautiful girl walk towards the tall broad-shouldered blond at the end of the road. Everything felt very unreal. She stopped at his side.

Draco lifted up her vale and the priest started speaking, but Hermione couldn't comprehend how long he spoke or even what he said, he sounded far away and echo-like. She slowly turned to look at Draco. He looked just as stiff and porcelain as she.

'The only person in the entire world who remotely knows how I feel right is Draco Malfoy,' she thought glumly of the irony as the Priest went on with his cute little speech about love and life and how marriage means teamwork and read from scripture… blah blah blah… She was looking him in his stormy silver eyes, losing herself in their depth. By some miracle she responded when the Priest requested her hand.

She watched as he wrapped Draco and her hands together in a silky scarf, somehow representing unity, still thinking of his eyes and how they looked at her.

As if a nudge back into reality, she realized if she had been looking into Draco's eyes that means he was looking back into hers. Was he lost in her honey-brown eyes much like she was in his? 'What,' she wondered, 'could he possibly be thinking while doing so?' For all she knew he was practically high from a mud bath too…

She looked at him for what felt like the first time, since she was more aware than ever now. Wondering what Draco was thinking had definitely cleared her mind of Lucius or Harry, and she marveled at how natural and stunning he looked in a tuxedo. Awakening to reality even more now she was aware of the strength and warmth of Draco's hand on hers as they were wrapped together in a scarf.

The priest had paused in his sermon and unwrapped the scarf.

"Now," he said softly, "Do you, Draco Malfoy, take Hermione, to love and to cherish, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, till death do you part?"

Draco was looking only into Hermione's eyes, "I do," he said clearly.

"And now," said the Priest, turning towards Hermione, "Do you, Hermione Granger, take Draco, to love and to cherish, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, till death do you part?"

Hermione was looking back at Draco, still astonished by his unceasing eye connection. She swallowed softly, "I do," she said gently; amazed she didn't feel nearly as nauseous as she thought she would.

"You may now kiss the Bride," said the Priest with a smile.

Suddenly Hermione DID feel nervous.

But it was brief and not even close to miserable. Draco placed his hand on the crook of her neck and cheek, leaned in and pressed his lips onto hers, both of them slightly puckered. As quick as it came her nervousness was mysteriously gone.

It was over in less then three seconds but it was miraculously long enough to twinge, plausibly even twinkle a bit and for Hermione to notice the warmth of Draco's lips and for Draco, the softness of hers.

They pulled their heads back as the happy bells were cued and the guests in the seat stood up with applause, watching the doves that were released in awe and soft laughter, the children blowing fountains of bubbles.

Hermione couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw Draco look back into her eyes for the briefest of seconds before turning, taking her arm in his, and walking quickly back down the isle, running from the cheers and shower of bubbles.


	20. The happiest day of your life Part 2

A/N: I kind of like the whole "I won't post until you review" thing, BECAUSE I'M EMBRACING MY EVIL SIDE MUAHAHA! So that's on again! However, this time don't feel like you have to hold back any specifics on what you like or don't like or constructive criticism, I'm not sensitive, you won't insult me, only help me J

… … …

Narcissa watched as her guests poured into the vast ballroom, taking seats at the extravagantly adorned round tables. The orchestra was already playing softly and countless people approached her to compliment the beauty and classiness of the wedding.

"_Fank__ you_," said Narcissa, taking another gulp from her glass.

Lucius, sitting at the head table next to her rolled his eyes; he couldn't believe she was already three sheets to the wind when Draco and Hermione hadn't even arrived to their own reception yet.

Surprisingly enough, he was worried about Draco. Although it was purely selfish at the root of it, truly concerned only for Draco's performance as a convincing happy husband, he was mad at Narcissa on Draco's behalf, thinking her being drunk would aggravate his son even more. He still hadn't thought of anything he could do to cheer him up and he sat brooding next to Narcissa, who was downing a forth cocktail.

"I'll take one of those too then," said Lucius to the waiter.

… … …

Hermione and Draco sat awkwardly in the back of the long black wizard's limo, neither speaking.

Finally, Draco, who was caught by Hermione glancing at her, decided to say something, "You looked nice…" he said.

"Hmm?" said Hermione, snapping out of a trance.

"During the ceremony," he said calmly, "You looked nice."

"Oh," Hermione said softly, "So did you…"

The two went back to a sleepy silence, although it wasn't that uncomfortable. It was safe for them both to assume the other was tired and a little out of it after such an odd event. It had actually happened, they were married.

Perhaps for the time being they weren't even enemies, but the only two people who could possibly understand how they were feeling right then. The thought tickled Hermione's mind and she glanced over at her "husband." He was rubbing his wrist; there was a small fresh abrasion.

"What happened to your arm?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Oh… I was trying out my new broom," said Draco, smiling softly at the thought, "I guess I got a little too crazy, I went through some branches and brushed up against a tree."

Hermione turned her head towards the front of the limo. They truly were just two young wizards caught up in an extravagant lie. After all, her new _husband_ still rode a broom. How splendid.

… … …

"Lucius, she's absolutely gorgeous," said the wife of one of Lucius's supervisors.

"Thank you," said Lucius nonchalantly, now downing _his_ fourth cocktail. Draco and Hermione had just arrived at the reception and Lucius still hadn't thought of anything to make Draco happy. Narcissa was totally gone by now and Lucius figured if you cant beat them, join them, as the 5th person in three minutes commented on Hermione's beauty.

The 1st dance was yet to start, since they were waiting for all the guests to order their plates and get settled, but Hermione was already surrounded by the younger male workers of the Ministry, smiling weakly. Her dress was not as fluffy as it was in the ceremony, since Sarah had designed layers to be removable, and now she was in a sleeker more sliming white skirt with a long slit up to her mid-thigh on one of the sides. Lucius looked for Draco; surely he should be protecting his wife from too much flirting?

But Draco was trapped in a corner by Pansy Parkinson, who was crying, desperately trying to convince him to go into a closet or loo later for a shag.

"Pierce!" Lucius called to the stern looking man sitting a few chairs down at the head table.

Pierce Parkinson stopped in mid-conversation to heed the call of Lucius, "Yes?" he asked, concerned by the tone of Lucius's voice.

"We are all aware of _his _requests," said Lucius firmly, "has your daughter forgotten?"

Pierce instantly scanned the ballroom for Pansy, scowling most foully when he saw her. "I'll get her," he said.

"Hurry, the 1st dance is about to start!"

Augustus Goyle came and sat next to Lucius as Pierce had just barely pulled Pansy away before the lights went down around them and focused on the ballroom floor. Lucius was watching very closely as Draco and Hermione met in the middle of the floor and took each other by the waist and hand, Augustus was chuckling softly.

"That was close eh?" he said, "…poor Draco, hasn't been laid in months and then he has to go and dance with _her._"

Lucius furrowed his brow, he looked at the couple, both dancing marvelously, "What do you mean?" he asked.

Augustus laughed harder, "Well, she's quite beautiful; it must be driving Draco insane. She gets him all randy but he can't release it on anyone else."

Blaise Zambini was also staring at the dancing couple. The wedding reception guests were certainly enjoying it; together Hermione and Draco were spectacular dancers. Draco had just spun Hermione, and her beautiful gown was swirling out around her. The impressed and delighted audience murmured happily.

"Draco thinks he's such hot shit, getting asked to do this for the Dark Lord," he spat angrily, "Everyone is so proud of him… like spending time with _her_ is that big of a hardship!"

Goyle looked apprehensively at Blaise, as did Crabbe, "I wouldn't go starting anything with Draco, Blaise," warned Goyle, "He has a temper."

Blaise scoffed, "I'm not afraid of him!" he mumbled.

Lucius was watching all the boys in the room goggle at Hermione. He was staring at his son closely now. Hermione was tightly against him, and Draco had his eyes shut. They had amazing chemistry on the dance floor; their movements flowed together with style and grace. Everyone was grinning at them from ear to ear as the orchestra continued to fill the ballroom with a romantic wedding song.

But Lucius wasn't focusing so much on their dancing talents, but how they seemed to dance so close together… Yes, Hermione was beautiful, even if she wasn't pure, and she was pressed up against Draco… who "hadn't been laid in months" as Augustus had so put it…. From Lucius's distance it almost appeared as if Draco was grimacing.

"Do you- do you think he'd like to fuck the mudblood?" Lucius asked stuttering and surprised, a combination of alcohol and his brain ticking away.

"Well, yeah!" said Augustus, "I would reckon that would be quite satisfying. I mean she's the reason he can't get it anywhere else. The least she could do was let him take it out on her. She's gorgeous for Merlin's sake. I know her blood is disgusting but she _is_ gorgeous. Honestly, what else is she good for?"

"But she'd fight him, she'd make it hell," slurred Lucius.

"Yeah sure on her own accord, but she wouldn't really have a choice would she? I mean anything she's told to do she must. Besides, that's the satisfying part isn't it? Forcing her? Knowing she's your little slave…" Augustus smiled perversely.

Lucius watched them intently for the rest of the dance. By the time they were done Lucius was smiling quite smugly.

Draco looked at Hermione as she slowly took a small step backward from him as the music of the song ended, their hands still clasped together. Applause erupted and all the faces were smiling around them. The 1st traditional dance of the Bride and Groom was over and the dance floor began to fill with other couples ready and now allowed to dance.

Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see Lucius smiling most unsettlingly.

"Father-in-law is next," he said.

Draco looked at him oddly, surprised that Lucius was so hell-bent on making this convincing that he'd actually dance with a muggle-born. He didn't understand why he had impulsively wanted to pull Hermione back into him, not let Lucius have her… dance a little more… it had been so soothing. But Lucius was still standing there, impatiently tapping his foot. Draco made himself shrug his shoulders and went to go sit by his mother.

Lucius took Hermione by the waist and hastily pulled her into his arms. Everyone had been correct. Hermione was soft and curvaceous and she smelled so sweet. He couldn't believe he hadn't really noticed it before. In fact, just having her young hot body right up against his was quite a turn on in itself.

Hermione could smell the alcohol on his breath and quickly concluded that that must be why his hand was so low on her waistline. In his drunkenness his disgust of her heritage was forgotten briefly. He was still smiling in that disturbing way.

"You did very well today," he said.

Hermione gave a weak smile, only one corner of her mouth turning up.

"And when I said the days to come would be important as well… I hope you know I meant tonight as well."

Hermione's face dropped into puzzlement and she looked up at Lucius as they continued to slowly waltz.

"What do you mean?" she asked, for some reason afraid of what he was going to say.

"It is ridiculous my son is unhappy on his wedding day, _not to mention _his honeymoon!" said Lucius, "So you're going to fix that tonight."

"But-" Hermione started, at a loss of words.

"We have it arranged for you two to go to the grandest hotel in the Wizard Caribbean,"

"Well I knew that but no one ever said anything about-" she began to say frantically…

"I'm going to ask him if he had a good night Granger," said Lucius very bluntly, "and if he says "no" I will be most displeased."

Hermione watched his face grow stern and threatening.

"In fact, if that is the case, then I, along with some associates of mine, will personally teach you how to please a man."

Hermione stopped dancing, dropping his hand and stepping away from him, but the music ended in a few beats anyways, and no one paid any attention to the look of utter shock and horror on her face.

"I hate you," whispered Hermione.

Lucius merely smiled at her, taunting her anguish, as the dancing continued up again around them, the guest completely oblivious to Hermione's life of hell.

Suddenly Lucius's eye light up. "Brusto, so bloody splendid to see you!"

Hermione heard the gluttonous scratchy laugh coming from behind her and she stopped dead in her tracks. A fat, dark featured, greasy man stepped up to them.

"How's 'bout a dance lassie?" chuckled Brusto.

Her face turned so crazed with still quiet anger that it instantly made Lucius concerned.

"Lucius," Hermione whispered most harshly, her skin crawling uncontrollably, "I swear on everything holy that if you let him touch me, I will scream. I will scream out right now for everyone to hear that I'm faking it and that you're forcing me. I know I'll be killed for it but knowing you' and him would be caught makes it bloody fucking worth it.

Lucius stared into her frantic, angry eyes unsettlingly, he knew from the terrifyingly serious tone in her voice that she wasn't bluffing. He swallowed down his disdain of her threat, "Oh, Brusto, leave her alone then," he said in casual cover up to his friend.

Brusto chuckled horribly, his double chin wobbling into his pigeon chest, "She's a bit shy then eh? Maybe some other time, in fact, I'm sure of it."

Hermione turned violently green and tried to swallow her throat, but it felt full of hardening cement. She dashed away from them to the nearest bathroom.

Harry had betrayed her… She was being forced to sleep with Draco or she'd have Lucius to deal with… she had to be in the presence of that vile disgusting murderer Karkaroff…the whole encounter had upset her so terribly much that she needed to dash to the nearest restroom and vomit violently.

On top of her stomach muscles aching horrendously from becoming so ill so fast, Hermione's bones felt like ice to her and her complexion was white as a ghost. She was curled up on the cold hard tile floor when Lucius must have sent Narcissa after her because it wasn't long before she came swaggering in.

"Now deary, don't be too long, people are expecting you…."

… … …

Drained of all she had, she robotically and without no emotion danced with numerous guests after that, even Fudge himself. Hermione thought briefly for anything that she might be able to say to him, knowing very well he was in touch with Dumbledore, anything she could say at all to convey that the marriage was fake and Lucius did not tolerate muggles. She knew any addition to what she hoped Dumbledore was telling him could only help him believe it, especially if it was from the supposed "wife" of Draco herself.

"This is so wonderful, it's like a love story," said Fudge, "You two are just like Romeo and Juliet. No… wait," he said, fumbling awkwardly, "except, you aren't going to kill yourselves. Well, uh, then I mean it's like Cinderella… only you didn't live with your wicked step family… and they didn't turn out to be wicked…"

'What an idiot,' thought Hermione.

"Either way!" said Fudge, "I think it's absolutely great that you two are so upfront about getting together, it's an example to everyone who didn't believe mixing blood could work."

Hermione smiled awkwardly, "Yes," she said, "It almost is _unbelievable_,"

"Er, yes, almost," said Fudge, "… and to be so public about it! It's truly great, inviting everyone to celebrate with you."

"Actually," said Hermione, "I don't know if you noticed, but there are hardly any Gryffindor alumni here, or any of my family."

Fudge chuckled, "Don't be ridiculous, your great uncle walked you down the isle. And we all heard the tragic news of your father… in the middle of a sword fishing expedition, lost days of travel because of storm..."

"My father?" said Hermione, "the dentist? Sword fishing? In November?"

But Fudge was barely listening to her; he was too busy waving and nodding to his employees. He half laughed, "Well it's a different season where he is… Australia right?"

Hermione sighed in disappointment, it didn't seem like Dumbledore had talked to Fudge about anything, which infuriated her. Was the Order to prideful to except the help of the Ministry? Wasn't Dumbledore the one always talking about good working relationships! It would be very beneficial for Fudge to be warned about Lucius, especially after all the Ministry related things she had found!

The song ended and Fudge bowed to her graciously and sauntered off. Unable to define her misery even to herself, Hermione made her way back to the head table. She hadn't even eaten yet, but she had absolutely no appetite. Instead she took a glass of wine, sipping it deeply, desperate for anything to unclench her nerves, to warm her ice cold bones, to make her stop worrying that her skin was literally crawling off.

Suddenly Sarah was waving to her, beckoning her over. She was sitting next to a very distracted and glum looking man with long brown shoulder length hair, who was absent mindedly and somewhat hastily poking at his sirloin.

"This is my Dad, Landon Malfoy," said Sarah.

The man slowly looked up, and he appeared to genuinely smile, as if just for his daughter, "It's a pleasure to meet you Hermione, Sarah's told me all about you," He said kindly, "My dear nephew must be head over heels to find such a lovely young lady."

Hermione smiled for the first time in hours. She wondered how much this man would know about the wedding. He knew very well his brother was a Death Eater, and that he was in contact with the Dark Lord. Had Sarah told him she was marrying Malfoy against her will?

"Landon," said Augustus, approaching suddenly, "Dinner with Nicholas Greenly, have you arranged it?"

"Yes! Yes!" said Landon in annoyance, almost cowering in Augustus's presence "I've already told Lucius, tomorrow at seven."

"Just making sure," said Augustus, looking at him sternly, "Brusto will be pleased, I'll go tell him." Then he turned and left, saying nothing more.

Sarah shot Hermione a sideways glance of mixed anxiety and annoyance, "Who is Nicholas Greenly Daddy?" asked Sarah.

"Oh just someone Daddy used to work with when I was at the Ministry."

"Was he a Counter like you were?" she asked.

"Not at the time no, he was just an assistant. Now he is though."

Sarah subtly nodded her head to the left, gesturing across the ball room for Hermione to look.

Hermione turned away and watched all of Lucius's guests, having a grand and fun time. From across the ballroom she could see Lucius chatting with Fudge and another man, she could only assume Sarah was trying to show her Nicholas Greenly, the man who she feared would hog her father while he visited.

He looked pleasant enough… but for some reason he looked strangely familiar. Hermione got a strong feeling of déjà vu, as if she had seen that man before exactly as he was then, chatting pleasantly with party guests. Just then Lucius had said something to make Fudge and Greenly laugh mirthfully, apparently the fake ass-kissing bastard had said something quite funny.

'I fucking hate you,' she thought firmly, staring at Lucius, and finishing her glass of wine in one gulp.

… … …

A/N: Some of you may be very interested in reviewing this chapter to get the next one posted, some friends and I have a particularly scandalous and adult chapter in the works. …Damn, I _am_ evil.


	21. The Honeymoon

A/N: Yikes! I'm sorry! I never actually intended to take THIS long, but something was up with every wireless connection in my area and I couldn't get online. I hope you guys don't think I'm actually THAT evil and stopped reading! Although I suppose it wouldn't be less than what I'd deserve after threatening not to post and all haha.

And not being able to post is going to make my next announcement all the more harder to share. I'm going out of town this weekend and won't be able to get started on the next chapter till Monday…. Sorry, but my step sister is getting married in Vermont. But if there's one thing that will get me all inspired to write that chap as quickly as possible its reviews! So maybe there will be some for me when I get back?! Pretty please?!

Also, just a reminder: My story is rated R, and its rated R for a reason. If you don't like reading adult content then please stop reading my story now as it is not my intention to offend anyone. But hey, you've been warned and it's your choice. To everyone else, please let me know what you think!

… … …

No one was there at the hotel with them to pretend for, so Draco did not carry Hermione through the door. He merely swung it open and stepped into the amazing honeymoon suite, loosening his tie and cummerbunds, completely oblivious to any of the things Hermione was thinking.

Hermione stepped in behind him. All of her devastating thoughts about Harry were miraculously gone, and any feelings of loathing and sickness from Karkaroff had vanished as well. All that went through her mind now was her dreadful self-convincing that _anything_ was better than Lucius… and she looked around, with much bitterness, at the luxurious large hotel room.

In her Order member state of mind, Hermione forced herself to be calm and poised, telling herself that this new development was just part of the mission. She would be physically convincing, because she was good at her job, but her mind wouldn't even be in the same room. 'It's just a part of working,' she told herself, which is what she always told herself when she had to use seduction to distract other suspects for any other Order mission… but the Order never asked her sleep with anyone... Lucius had. And it was him she had to cater to.

It was an oval shaped room, with a gigantic bed at the end, a loft to the left and a kitchenette to the right, all of it in spotless white. The bright crispness of the room was very different than the Buckingham Palace feel of Malfoy Manor and it seemed to please Draco very much.

He approached the bed, smiling as he looked around, and sat down on it, it was billowy and soft. It felt great to sink his exhausted and drained self into it and it disappointed him to think he would have to be a gentleman and give the bed to Hermione.

"These hotels have telephones instead of floo," said Draco, "Do you think you could help me call on it for a foldout bed or something?"

He looked at Hermione for the first time, she was standing by the door, still wrapped in the silky fabric as a top, but her once fluffy gown was down to its last, tightest layer, a pearly white short skirt. Something was different about her expression. Draco didn't know what to make of it, but she was looking at him intensely.

"… or should I just sleep on the sofa…" he said awkwardly as Hermione began slow steps toward him. She was surprised her hands were shaking slightly, usually by this time she was like a robot, but no, she was very much aware of Draco's presence and what she was going to try to make happen…

'Just say it,' thought Hermione, looking at Draco, who looked confused, yet slightly intrigued. "Sleep with me," she said softly, still walking slowly but becoming very close to Draco sitting on the bed.

"You mean like share the bed?" asked Draco.

Hermione giggled; secretly grateful she decided to drink so much wine. Draco watched as her hand went behind her and he heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper. Suddenly Hermione's dress dropped down, and she was standing two feet away from him in nothing but a lacey white bra and high cut bikini panties.

Hermione watched Draco's mouth drop. She assumed she'd feel very embarrassed, thinking that's why her cheeks were starting to feel warm, but in a very nonobjective way, Draco's reaction was quite flattering.

That's because Draco was quite stunned. He stared at her amazing body for a long moment, something he had so strongly wanted to see since she arrived at his house whether he wanted to admit it or not, but then he furrowed his brow. After the shock had worn off, he realized how out of character she was acting.

Hermione sensed his rising doubt and she thought instantly of Lucius's punishment. She quickly pushed Draco back on to the bed and the next thing Draco knew she had crawled up on him and he was suddenly laid back beneath a nearly naked and utterly sultry girl. She stayed hovering, looking him in his wide dazzling eyes with her most seductive expression.

Draco opened his mouth to say something but Hermione stopped him with a kiss. Her lips planted onto his. Draco's first thought was to make her stop, to ask her what the hell she was doing… but he didn't. Her mouth soon melted into his and he let the kiss go on for a few more seconds.

She released his lips from her soft pucker and he was looking up at her. Her mouth had been so amazing to him, and, wanting only but to kiss again, Hermione had made him completely forget about all the outrageous context that went along with who he was kissing and his arm slid up hers until he had her gently by the back of the neck and pulled her back down to his mouth for more.

She had started it after all.

Their lips met again and Draco thought instantly that something was off… that he shouldn't have done what he just had, but within the next second Hermione parted his lips and he felt her soft pink tongue gently slip against his and all of his previous inclinations understandably disappeared.

Draco found himself wrapping his other arm around her back and he pulled her body into his as she continued to kiss him passionately. The only thing he was capable of comprehending was how amazing she felt laying on top of him with her tongue and lips playing with his… Hermione was pressing her body into Draco's, which was firm and inviting. Suddenly she was kissing him so intensely that she needed to break away to breathe. She was caught off guard by her lack of air, but after all, she never ever expected him to be so good at it. Draco took that opportunity to kiss her neck and habitually his hands were running up and down her body, caressing her skin.

Draco's hands tickled and tingled her skin as he sensually touched her and involuntarily Hermione shuddered pleasantly. Within that very second she was extremely shocked. She assumed this act would be repulsive, but she found herself not needing to fake how turned on she was quite as much as the previous times she had to do something like this… She inhaled sharply as Draco sucked on her neck and pull her tightly into him, she sighed when she could feel the ripple of Draco's, whose stomach is so defined, muscles press against her. The way Draco suddenly couldn't keep his hands off of her made her feel so sexy, a feeling which only made her enjoy herself more. Becoming completely uninhibited, he was allowing her hips to grind slowly into his…

Realizing this, she stopped abruptly.

Draco, who had been enjoying it so, noticed her ceasing and stopped kissing her neck, as if on the verge of questioning the situation.

To cover up her awkward jolt she rose up off of him, straddling him between her legs, and began undoing the buttons of his shirt.

'Let's get this over with,' she told herself, assuming that's what she should be thinking. Certainly nothing like "take your time"or"maybe he'll really like if I do this…" or anything of that sort should be going through her mind, and she knew it. Besides, she was being forced to do this! There couldn't possibly be any reason she'd have to genuinely want to please him!

Draco looked up at her as she undid his clothes and licked her lips. She opened his shirt and began to glide her fingertips up and down his hard chest. Draco slid his hands up her thighs and firmly grasped her hips. She leaned back onto him while rolling her hips, and began to kiss him again. Draco felt hot and woozy as she enthusiastically nibbled his lower lip, moaning as he gripped her butt.

Hermione was surprised once again.

The moan that escaped from within her wasn't fake and it freaked her outWhy did Draco have to be such a good kisser? And why did his hands have to be so warm and strong?

'Get the rest of our clothes off,' thought Hermione, not liking how different this was from kissing someone like Ivan…. 'I need to get things moving…'

Yeah, that would do it. Get it over with so fast that she wouldn't have time to do the impossible and, oh goodness, like it!

She broke their kissing again and sat up once more. With Draco watching she slowly dragged her hands down from his shoulders to the waistband of his pants before sliding them sensually up her own body and reaching around herself to slowly and teasingly unclasp her bra.

He watched her as if he was hypnotized and Draco felt his body surge beneath her, knowing she was going to fully undress, show all of herself to him… he couldn't wait. His pants were tight and stiff, noticing for the first time he had never been so hard… no girl had got him so turned on so quickly like Hermione Granger-

'What the hell!' thought Draco. He sat up abruptly, sliding Hermione down so she was straddling his legs opposed to sitting on his erection.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Hermione looked instantly concerned, "What do you mean what am I doing?" she asked, pretending it was obvious, "It's our honeymoon,"

"Yeah, it sure is," said Draco, "And you hate me."

Draco's words were firm and his face was stern with suspicion. Hermione's face dropped into disappointment, Draco had been too smart for it. "Listen, Draco," she said softly, softly and slowly placing her hand on his upper knee and stroking upward, "Just do me."

"What?" spat Draco.

She pulled her hand back. "If you don't tell Lucius we slept together then…" she trailed off, looking extremely embarrassed.

"WHAT?" cried Draco again, not believing what he was hearing. He began to get up.

"Draco," Hermione pleaded desperately, "Please, just sleep with me, your Dad is determined that you do it, it's his way of putting me in my place… I'll do it however you want, I won't even complain, Draco, please…"

Although the "I'll do whatever you want" comment caused his groin to twinge with intense excitement, the pitiful "I won't even complain" remark caused his stomach to turn.

Draco looked absolutely disgusted, "I'm not going fuck someone who doesn't want to!" he spat ferociously, slipping off of the bed and pacing by it in his rant, "I can't believe he'd even- of all the things- like I can't bloody get a real shag!-" he was sputtering angrily now.

Hermione had recoiled; covering her scantily clad self now that the situation called for modesty.

Draco looked at her; she looked pathetically desperate and concerned, terrified even. He felt bad for her, that Lucius would make her do such a thing. "Don't worry," he said softly, his lips curling in anger at the thought of his father, "I'll tell him you fucked me."

Hermione looked at him, bunching her hair back up into a falling clip, after an entire day it was coming undone and it had gone especially wild during their making out, "Thanks," she said finally and forced a weak gratuitous smile.

"…Will you tell him I fucked you well?" she murmured softly a moment later.

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, wondering why Hermione would care if Lucius thought she was a good lay or not… it was surprisingly conceited for what he thought he knew of her…

"If I don't "please" you," she explained using her fingers as quotation marks, "he said… he said he and his friends would teach me how…"

"Good god," muttered Draco in raging disbelief, it was so appalling to him…

Hermione was still looking at him with wide worried eyes.

"Yes," he said, realizing he hadn't answered her question, "I'll tell him you were great…"

There was an awkward silence as Draco stood by the bed still disbelieving while Hermione sat there in her wedding day lingerie.

"I feel so… gross," she said finally.

Draco's face contorted into a frown a bit.

"…from being in that dress all day," she added, not wanting him to think it was a personal insult and that his kisses and caresses had been gross after he had so kindly let her off the hook and saved her from Lucius, "Just tired and covered in make up and stuff, you know?" she added earnestly. Draco understood then and nodded.

Too bad she couldn't tell Draco it was the putrid thought of Lucius that made her feel so sick, "…I think I'll go shower..." she managed to say.

"Ok," said Draco, feeling very odd himself.

Hermione disappeared into the bathroom leaving Draco feeling…feeling… like they didn't have closure. He felt like a fool for kissing her back and meaning it when she hadn't at all. He could not believe she had so successfully seduced him while acting. No woman had done that to him before, and he was utterly shocked.

But honestly, should he really feel embarrassed for getting so turned on? Surely she must know she has that effect on men. His erection hadn't surprised her, in fact, she grinded herself into it.

Suddenly that struck Draco as funny. Grinding into him wasn't necessary… in fact it would be pleasurable to her as well. Had she been enjoying herself?

Draco felt a flash of pride; surely he must point this out to her, rub her face in it even, make it obvious that he wasn't the only one who should feel embarrassed. He hesitated briefly, but found himself rushing towards the bathroom door.

Hermione was standing in front of the sink and mirror. She had let down her hair and removed her silly expensive lace bra and was splashing cool water on her face, trying to put out the fire in her cheeks, but her reflection in the mirror still showed a blushing face. Out of curiosity she ran her hand up her thigh and felt herself. It was warmer and moister than she had even suspected. She couldn't believe there was physical evidence of her arousal. There was no denying she hadn't enjoyed it now.

Typical to his tendencies, Draco burst in without knocking, but whatever he was going to say was quickly forgotten as Hermione whipped around in surprise.

They just stared at each other for a few seconds, Hermione in only skimpy white panties, nothing else.

A million impulsive things to say and do went through Draco's mind, but in the end, he said nothing and merely backed out of the room and closed the door.

Hermione grabbed a towel, holding it against her, and kicked open the bathroom door.

'DO YOU EVER KNOCK?!' she intended to yell. But she didn't.

He was standing stiffly by the bed, looking as though he was expecting her to come storming out. And she did.

He couldn't take it, after seeing her like that he knew he had to have her and he began to advance towards her without hesitation. The very second he walked towards her Hermione just knew, and dropped her towel as he pushed her up against the wall and began to kiss her passionately.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and ferociously kissed him in return.

Draco's hands marveled at the silkiness of her skin as he roamed her back without a bra strap in the way. With them so bare and open he could not resist, his right hand found itself sliding around to her front side taking a firm grip of her breast. His left hand slid down her back and stroked the back of her thigh. Hermione was moaning, not believing the wonderful sensation of Draco's massaging hands. She broke away, once again underestimating his effect on her and she needed to breathe.

As she panted, Draco's warm firm lips began on her neck again, only they continued working downwards. Hermione gasped when Draco's hot mouth met her nipples, teasing and playing with her with his tongue. He kept his face there for good period of time, having wanted this secretly for so long, enjoying her moans and the way she arched her back in reaction. Her hands ran threw his hair and she clawed at his shoulders as she slid one of her legs around his.

Draco sucked and nibbled on her neck once more as a hand slid down her flat stomach. They were kissing again as he played with the fabric of her panty line. Desperate for him to touch her there, Hermione gripped him even more firmly with her leg as he pressed her against the wall, holding her up. He finally slipped his hand down and instantly Hermione heaved a sigh, but inhaled sharply soon after, as Draco delicately played with her.

Draco let out an exhalation of surprised pleasure when he entered her because she was so amazingly tight and wet, by far the most he had ever felt. He was shuddering in bewilderment as she moaned as well at the physical intimacy and stimulation of allowing him in. He slowly but firmly began to beckon his fingers in her causing all kinds of intense sensations and Hermione huffed and puffed, not wanting him to ever stop. Draco was holding her firmly against the wall, because she would uncontrollably push away from it. Draco loved the way she felt so much he didn't even mind that his hand was being to get tired. Feeling her and looking down at her body, her breasts, her stomach, her gorgeous silky skin, the way her waist was so tiny yet so sexily sloped into her hips, it all had him so incredibly aroused. He looked up at her beautiful face, his arousal blindingly obvious in his fierce shiny eyes.

She looked back at him, still murmuring and wiggling in delight as his hand was down her panties. He was so absolutely gorgeous, his broad shoulders and hard chest and stomach…she followed the muscle lines of his thick shapely arm till it the led to the hand in between her legs and she realized she was so hot that she couldn't believe it didn't burn. She looked him into his perfect face to see what he thought of the heat, and his powerful eyes showed undoubtedly that he was enjoying it. Seeing the pleasure he was giving her in her warm brown eyes caused a sly smile to form across his lips.

It was when Draco had delicately pinched her nipple with his free hand and she cried out in surprised pleasure that she gripped his biceps and flipped him over, so it was him now between the wall and her. She undid his pants in seconds and slid her hands down over his boxers, cupping him and then giving him a long deep stroke with the palm of her hand. To him the shock of her touch was so enticing…Hermione had never felt a boy so firm. She couldn't stop herself; she wanted to get her hands around it and pulled down his boxers. Instantly she marveled at his size and firmness, his skin was so hot and he was so swollen. She grazed his length with her fingertips before she wrapped one hand around it and began gliding it up and down, over and over.

His arms and stomach muscles tightened and he inhaled and exhaled deeply as she jerked him in a strong rhythmic motion and looked him the eyes, watching him love it. He's knees began to shake and he longed for Hermione to lie back on top of him. After allowing her to so sensually stroke him for as long as he could stand, he pulled her hands up out of his pants and guided her backwards until she tripped back onto the bed.

She watched him finally step completely out of his clothes. Then he swiftly pulled Hermione's panties off of her.

The last thing Hermione expected Draco to do was spread her legs open, get down on his knees and, starting at the inside of her knee, sprinkle her with kisses all the way to her upper thigh.

She cried out in exhilaration when he finally began tonguing her. Her toes scrunched up as she began running her hands through his blonde locks again as he kissed and licked in the best spots. She wiggled and murmured, trying to hold her outbursts in as Draco lightly teased her with the tip of his tongue in areas he knew perfectly well to be sensitive, then suddenly he'd be much more firm and deep, sucking and rubbing with his lips and tongue.

"Mmmm…" moaned Draco involuntarily after he slid his hands around her hips, lifted her a bit for better access and slid his tongue all the way in her, he couldn't believe her sweet taste. He slid it in and out, over and over again; her moans and whimpers making him harder than ever. It wasn't until she was bucking her hips and crying out profusely that Draco slowly withdrew his mouth.

He softly kissed up her stomach, licking her slowly on the way. His hot wet tongue felt so good along her skin. She greedily kissed his mouth when he met her face. But when he loomed over her for too long, as if wanting to torture her, Hermione couldn't stand it any longer and rolled him over.

She settled her body over his and sunk down onto him. She pushed until all of his massiveness was inside her.

He moaned long and loud.

The heat and tightness was more amazing than he had ever felt, and her wetness made him throb with hardness even more, the mere thought of her being so physically turned on only made him more turned on. Hermione rose and then fell again, and he gripped her hips earnestly. She rose and fell, rose and fell, the pleasure of him filling her completely traveling through her like waves. Draco grunted as she went her rhythm and pace, working all of him in.

Draco had never felt anything like it, Hermione's body welcomingly invited him in, gently squeezing him as Hermione slid up and down. He loved to hear her rhythmic moans, and wanted to make her cry out louder.

He began setting the speed of her thrusts by guiding her waist, lying back enjoying the view, the pleasure, and her lustful outbursts.

Faster and faster he guided her, pulling her down more firmly. Draco felt her begin to breathe more quickly and start to shake, her eyes were closed tightly and she rolled her head around her shoulders, her curls being tossed everywhere. Draco did not let up on her. The tip of him was repeatedly hitting Hermione in the most sensitive internal spot of her entire body, while the whole length of him stroked her delicate insides repeatedly. She thought it impossible for the friction between them to grow anymore intense, but amazingly enough it did, especially as he guided her. After a few more moments Hermione threw head back, arching her back and screamed loudly as she climaxed.

Draco merely smiled and laid her temporarily relaxed body down next to him. Hot, pleasurable satisfaction tingled like static electricity all over her body as she revealed in the aftermath of her giant orgasm. But Draco knew if he was good at one thing, it was pleasing women_ all_ night long, and he couldn't wait to show Hermione.

Hermione felt him roll over and his weight sink into her and the next thing she knew the pleasurable strokes were back and she was moaning once again. She couldn't believe it, he was still aiming to pleasure her some more! He was slower this time, but deep and he kissed her chest as she sunk her fingertips into his back, dragging them across his broad shoulders in ecstasy.

As if he knew her body better than anyone else, he would decrease his thoroughness just before she was to climax again, teasing her for what felt like an eternity.

Draco watched as her head rolled around, her own hands clawing at her hair as if she were literally being driven insane. She shuddered intensely for the countless time and she was breathing very heavily. After such a long day he knew she couldn't take much more teasing, and that tiredness applied to him as well, not that he wasn't enjoying every single second of their current affair.

He readjusted her beneath him, since she had nearly scooted up into the headboard from his "nudging". He looked her in the eyes and she returned the glare with an almost desperate hunger for him to do what she knew he was going to. Draco smirked smugly, knowing no man had ever given her as much pleasure as he. He reentered her very deeply. She moaned very loudly once again and she gripped Draco very tightly. Next thing Draco knew _he_ was moaning louder than she was, he trembled and gasped for air, shocked at the indescribable amount of pleasure and satisfaction and then collapsed on top of her.

Hermione, beyond satisfied, rolled him off of her, so that they were lying on their sides, face to face. Before her heavy eyelids slowly blinked to a permanent close, she saw Draco, slowly catching his breath, his own eyes closed tightly. Just moments before Draco was arrogantly boasting about giving Hermione the best pleasure she'd ever known, least suspecting she'd return the favor.


	22. Nobody's fault but your own

A/N: Okay, seriously, I'm sorry this one took so long. I know this is like the 3rd time I've said that but this one was honestly ready about a week ago. However, I am a huge dork and thought I sent it to my beta when really I didn't. I checked my email for days in a row in vain waiting for something to impossibly come haha. Anyways, I should be done with the next chapter within a day and I'll be sure to actually SEND that one and get it posted ASAP.

... ... ...

Hermione's eyes slowly blinked open. Everything was bright. After becoming more aware she realized it was the whiteness of the bedding, and the bright tropical sun that was pouring in through the beautiful viewing window.

Hermione rolled over to see if Draco was in the bed next to her, but he wasn't. She slid her hand across the soft linen to where his imprint lay and she couldn't decide if it wasn't warm because he had been gone for a long time, or if it had cooled quickly because of the breeze the open window allowed in.

She laid back into the pillow, her naked body barely covered by the thin tossed sheet. The air of the resort was sweet and warm and if felt good to lazily breath it in.

She ran her hands through her hair. It was messy and a bit crispy from the products that were put in the day before, not to mention the perfumes and lotions. She slowly got out of bed and went back to the bathroom, she never did get that shower she wanted the night before…

She turned on the water of the shower, which was a large square encasement of glass and stainless silver trimming. After letting it warm up enough she stepped in, closing the sliding glass behind her. The sweet smells of the hotels soaps and the massaging head of the shower melted Hermione into deep relaxation. She was so out of sorts there was no way she could begin to wrap her head around what had happened with Draco the night before just yet… All could she think about was how different her body seemed to her as she finished rinsing the conditioner out of her hair and was now lathering herself with a creamy soap.

Before it was plain and ordinary, but now, now she was looking at parts that seemed to hypnotize Draco. Parts he had touched, teased, pleasured for hours the night before. He beheld her whole body, nurturing and admiring every single inch of her, giving the most sincere attention to every bit, like she was amazing. Never in a millions years would she guess Draco Malfoy would idolize her body.

The creak of an opening door caused Hermione to turn and try to look into the bathroom through the sliding glass, but the main room of the bathroom quickly filled with hot wet fog, and nothing could be seen through the whiteness.

Suddenly the shower door was slid open and Draco emerged into the shower, a white towel around his waist. He looked a bit sweaty and hot, his hard chest glistening with dew.

"I thought you were gone," said Hermione, surprised.

"No, I was just trying out the steam room," he said very plainly, letting the towel drop and already moving in on Hermione.

He knew before he even fell asleep the night before, as absurd as it was, that he and Hermione would have sex again.

Hermione knew she was definitely overdue for thinking through her current situation, but she didn't care. The second he dropped his towel and she marveled his perfect body she was ready to go. She was up against the wall within seconds, her legs wrapped around Draco, sucking on his neck as he made her moan the best way he knew how.

It hadn't been a dream, nor was Hermione sick or deranged from stress, the way she felt when he was in her was just as unbelievable as it was the previous evening. He closed his eyes tightly as she let him push her up and in to the shower wall, the hot water raining down around them.

… … …

'Merlin, how weird is this…' thought Hermione, standing in their hotel room's walk-in closest, trying to find something to wear. Draco was still in the bathroom, brushing his teeth.

She had just picked out a thin pink tank top with a lacey collar, something that wouldn't get to hot in the weather, and was pulling it over her head when Draco came out wearing nothing but boxers.

He seemed to be perfectly comfortable around her, so Hermione decided for the moment she'd do just the same.

"Where did that portkey take us to anyway?" asked Hermione. After the wedding reception, and Lucius's demand, Hermione couldn't care less where they were going on their "honeymoon", but now, things were a bit different, and she wanted to know where she was.

"An island called Jamaica, ever heard of it?" he answered, pulling on a t-shirt of his own.

Hermione's mouth dropped, "Yes!" she exclaimed, "A lot of world changing magical discoveries were made here! The muggles think the people practice something called "voodoo", its all terribly fascinating…"

"Well good," said Draco, "Because we're here for a few of days."

Both became silent. Alone. Just the two of them. In their hotel room. For days. Draco pulled on some pants and looked over to Hermione, who had been brushing her hair but had now stopped.

"There's some, uh, golf thing, I think is what it's called, that I wanted to try," he said, smoothing his hair in the mirror and looking over to Hermione, "…you can do…whatever," he added.

Hermione just looked at him. Was he being nicer? Giving her more freedom? Did it have anything to do with the fact that they'd just slept together?

Draco could only assume she didn't know what to think, but he didn't care. He felt like he had discovered something amazing, and he honestly didn't want to be told or even acknowledge that it might be wrong.

He just smirked at her, "Why don't you order some brunch from room service or something? It's getting to be after noon. I should be home in time to get some dinner with you," he had finished lacing up his shoes and stood up. He slipped his arm around her, planting his hand on her butt and pulled her right next to him, "After dinner I want to have more sex," he said and kissed her firmly on the lips.

… … …

Hermione walked the white sanded beach alone, collecting conchs and shells. She had also visited the street market earlier to pass the time while Draco was gone. She had bought some fresh tropical flowers to bring back some color to their stark white room as well as an indigenous pearl necklace, all charged to the Malfoy account of course, which Hermione suddenly had unlimited access to. She admired the beauty of the island, and the wonderful native people. In fact, it was the only thing she let herself think about, nothing else was allowed. No Voldemort or Dumbledore. No Draco or Harry. Honestly men were nothing but trouble.

When she returned to her room she immediately received a phone call informing her that dinner would be brought as soon as Mr. Malfoy arrived, and that they were also receiving complimentary champagne and strawberries, a honeymooner's treat.

Why, she did not know, but she changed out of her beach outfit of shorts and a tank top into a thin cool soft yellow sun dress. She also tucked one of the tropical flowers behind her ear. She didn't want to admit to herself that she wanted to look pretty for Draco.

She also couldn't explain the terribly anxious feeling she felt when the house-elf of the hotel wheeled in their dinner without Draco being back.

"He's just arrived Miss," said the elf, "We brought dinner as soon as he entered the lobby."

And sure enough Draco came in through the door, carry an anonymous brown paper bag which he set aside.

He just looked at Hermione, who was seated at the table as the house-elf wheeled out the cart back out of the room. He sat without saying anything, and began to uncork the champagne bottle. He poured them both a glass, then pulled the silver lid off of his plate. The two quietly began to enjoy their fresh lobster dinners.

"How was golf?" asked Hermione finally.

Draco swallowed his bite then smiled, "Frustrating, I got disqualified for jinxing my ball."

Hermione laughed mirthfully, the mental image to humorous to hold in.

"What did you do today?" he asked.

"I went for a walk, sight saw…" she said, "and did a little shopping."

Draco just nodded, chewing another bite. There was another awkward silence.

She'd never admit it, not even to herself, but she had been thinking of, looking forward to even, the event that Draco said would take place upon his return. She had finished her dinner, and was trying the complimentary strawberries.

She drew it to her mouth slowly and savored one delicately between her lips, dwelling on the delicious flavor and juicy texture as she looked out the glass balcony of their suite, captured by the sunset. She was filled with uncertainty.

Was she a horrible person for enjoying sex with such an enemy? How did things get to this point?!

Suddenly Draco pushed the entire table out of the way. Hermione should've known she wasn't the only one who had been thinking about them all day. He had been watching her, wanting her, and something as simple as her delicate movements of a strawberry to her mouth did him in. He wanted to be that strawberry!

He grasped her by her shoulders and kissed her deeply while holding her still. Hermione, surprised, was as stiff as a plank of wood in response to his grip, but Draco's kiss soon melted her and she relaxed into his arms.

With her guard down it was much easy for Draco to control her. He slid the spaghetti straps off of her shoulders and her dress fell to the floor and he began sliding his hands up and down her stomach and breasts, caressing her silky skin. Hermione shivered from his touch and while still kissing him she grazed the waistband of his pants with her hands before undoing his belt.

Draco tensed up, the very action making him so anxious. He wanted her so bad; everything she did just drove him crazy. He had been afraid she wouldn't want to again, that she would tell him to "get lost"… He was so glad she had no idea what it would do to him if she were to refuse him… if he attempted to kiss her and she said no, the horribly unthinkable possibility of rejection… from her.

Slytherins do not deal well with flashes of vulnerability. Knowing that she could hurt him made him feel the need to establish in her mind that she really couldn't! He needed to make sure she thought otherwise, that if she were to say no that he wouldn't really mind. He had to believe she had no power over him, his entire ego depended on it!

Before Hermione knew it, she was directed back towards the bed, flipped around and pushed down to her knees. Hermione was shocked, Draco was being very forceful.

Draco dropped to his knees as well; Hermione was in between him and the bed. His front side was pressed right up against her backside while she was being pushed against the bed like someone about to pray on an altar. His hands was now around her front, groping her chest and rubbing in between her legs in slow firm figure eights. Despite her surprise, she moaned deeply and was glad the bed was there for her to lean on. Both of their underwear had dropped and Hermione could feel Draco in between her legs, temptingly close to where his hand was rubbing. She was definitely impatient for him to enter her, she leaned over the bed a bit, wanting to persuade him with smooth access.

Draco smiled evilly, "Do you want me?" he asked huskily.

Hermione just moaned.

Draco stopped rubbing but just pressed firmly down, "I _said_ do you want me?"

Hermione was surprised by his aggressiveness, and she realized if she wanted to move away from him she couldn't, he had her trapped against the bed. Not that it mattered; she didn't want to go anywhere. "Y-yes," she stammered, his hand still affecting her.

Hermione whimpered, confused yet still enjoying every single touch against her better self.

"Say it," said Draco firmly into her ear, tracing a circle outside of her with his fingers and lunging himself a bit more in between her legs, hoping his hard readiness would drive her crazy.

Hermione was shivering uncontrollably. "I want you," she exasperated, her eyes closed tightly, dying for him to quit torturing her.

"You need me to do it don't you?" boasted Draco, a sick attempt to clear his own conscious. 'It was Hermione who initiated the sex', he thought. He had to think it was Hermione. He couldn't possible have been the one to put the moves on the mudblood… it had to have been all her doing. She begged him, she persuaded him, she convinced him… 'She came to me!' he told himself firmly, 'I may have liked to look at her, but SHE took it to the next level…' If it ever came to a point where someone needed to take responsibility for what they've done, for whatever ever reason, it would be her.

Hermione was growing more and more aware of what he was trying to do with each passing second, and it made her very angry, but at the same time she didn't want to say or do anything that would cause Draco to stop pleasuring her. In fact, she wanted to do whatever it took to make him do more. 'Merlin, how does he know exactly where to touch?!' she wondered anxiously. He was treating her like an inferior, so why was it turning her on so much?

"Say you need me!" he said again.

Hermione finally opened her eyes, almost slightly smiling to herself. "I need you she whispered huskily.

The sound of those words coming from her mouth was so arousing. Draco smiled while closing his eyes, completely relieved. He didn't know what he would've done next if his manipulation hadn't worked, and he was probably more eager than Hermione was to get to the point, but he couldn't have let her know that. Finally he could slip into her from behind, and she cried out from the stimulation of the new angle.

Draco aggressively pumped into her, determined how to show her just how much _she _liked what he did. He continued to reach around her, rubbing her outside while thrusting her inside. She was panting and whimpering from how amazing it felt, but that didn't mean she had forgotten what he dared try to do…

Finally she quivered from the intense attention and over stimulation. It wasn't long before Hermione arched her back into him, crying out with pleasure. Draco was so secretly relived when Hermione erupted into a climax, because she had been slightly rubbing her butt into him and squeezing him so tightly he could barely keep it together.

They took a quick breath while Hermione flipped around, sat on the edge of the bed and laid back, smiling oddly at him.

Draco, delusional from pleasure, loved the view, and eagerly got up from his knees, knowing it was finally his turn to climax and positioning himself so that he could enter her while he was standing and she laid back, her hips to the edge of the bed… but suddenly, Hermione squeezed her legs together too tightly for him to make it.

Draco opened his eyes and huffed in surprise, but Hermione had already begun to pull him onto the bed. Although there was initial disappointment, he was keenly interested and slightly confused when she pushed him onto his back and crawled over him. But then she began pulling a pillow out of its long silky case and ripped it down the middle.

"Wha-," said Draco

"Shut up," said Hermione with a sweet smile, taking one of his hands over his head and lacing some of the fabric through the iron headboard. Before Draco knew it Hermione had tied his hands up and was kissing his chest.

Draco was heavily aroused and he ached and longed for her, but she merely hung over him, his extremely sensitive tip brushing against the hot, wet, soft skin between her legs. He groaned and groaned, even lunged upward, but it was no use. This time it was Hermione smiling evilly.

Need him? Ha.

"Do you want me?" Hermione mocked seductively.

"HUH?" said Draco, not believing she had tricked him so well. His hands began to tug on the fabric, angry and desperate to get free. He'd show Hermione who was the one in charge… but it was no use, the binds loosened a bit but not enough, and she had begun rubbing herself against him again, causing him to shudder and groan.

"Do you want me?" she said again more firmly.

"Hermione," he began to say sternly.

She reached backward and in between his legs gripping him firmly in her hand, knowing Draco would want her to stroke him, "Well?"

"Yes," he cried, "really badly!"  
Hermione softly glided her hand along him, increasing her grip and speed slowly, "Do you need me?" she asked.

Draco just glared at her, attempting once again to free his hands from the sloppy ties.

Hermione stopped her stroking.

"No!" cried Draco almost frantically, "Don't stop!"

"Because you need me to keep going, don't you? You need me," she boasted, enunciating each world.

"Yes!" Draco yelled angrily.

Hermione resumed tickling him, "Yes what?"

"Yes I need you!" he gasped.

Hermione smiled with satisfaction at the sound of the words. How dare he try to make her look like the desperate needy one? She looked up at him through hazy long eyelashes, leaned down and began to kiss and lick his chest. Her hot, pink tongue felt so soft and good on his muscles, and her lips were like a gentle massage as she slightly sucked, and watching her was so erotic it made him loose his breath. "How bad do you need me?" she asked, taking it further than he had.

"What?" he cried in exasperation, shifting from the pleasure.

Hermione had very slowly made her way down to his stomach, "You heard me," she said, lingering at his bellybutton.

He could feel that she wasn't moving any further down, and his body cried out in protest. After a groan he finally gave up, "A lot," he cried, "So much Hermione, you have no idea!"

She was dangerously low now, licking low on his stomach and lightly grazing his upper inner thighs with her finger tips. "How come?" she asked with a tone of innocent curiosity.

Draco roared with anger, she was _still_ torturing him, "Uhhh," he groaned, "Because you feel so good!" he muttered, his eyes closed tightly, "Sooo good."

Hermione intentionally licked just the tip of him for the briefest of seconds.

"Oh, please," he said, "Merlin, please!"

Hermione finally did Draco the biggest kindness and put her whole mouth around him.

He vocalized his gratitude loudly as she finally stopped torturing him and he felt how quickly Hermione's hot wet mouth engulfed him. Hermione hungrily continued, firmly massaging him with her tongue and lips, rubbing her hands on his thighs, sliding her mouth up and down the entire length of him. She was humming softly while Draco moaned and rolled his head around in ecstasy because of the soft vibration.

It was pretty settled then, and both of them knew it. They didn't know why or how, but there was no point in denying it anymore. Hermione may have wanted Draco really bad, but it definitely wasn't all on her, and she made sure he knew that. Regret, getting caught, whatever they both worried may possibly come from what they had done, they'd be taking the blame together. And after she managed to trick him and torture him he sure as hell knew it perfectly well now. They both let it happen. They were sleeping with the enemy, and they liked it.


	23. Trapped in paradise

A/N: Only a little bit of plot progression in this chapter but you have to watch for it, other than that its mostly them and the rest of their honeymoon. I thought of how to end this story over a month ago, and we're just now coming up to the parts where it's really obvious what was going on in the real world to inspire me haha. I'm kind of making up my own stuff/extending what Rowling has written for us from here forth so I couldn't really go for 100 percent acuaracy. Hope you like it though, let me know :)

... ... ...

If the guest had been anyone other than the son of Lucius Malfoy, who, although no one even knew there was any doubt due to the extensive façade, was now richer than ever, Hermione and Draco would have been kicked out of the resort. Generally, hotels frown upon couples copulating nearly everywhere. 

The manager had to close one of the smaller, prettier beaches on extremely short notice, roping off the sand bars far enough away so an onlooker couldn't see Draco and Hermione "enjoying each others company" yards down the way by some rocks, making love in the surf. Guests were angry of course, since the exquisite beach was private to hotel patrons only, but none of them were worth as much as a Malfoy. The hotel manager ended up concocting some story about an endangered sea turtle laying her eggs and that the area needed to be protected. To his dismay, a certain nature loving family really wanted to see that "once in a life time occurrence" and the manager had quite the time trying to distract them with free casino chips.

On another evening, Draco excused himself off of a panting Hermione to answer the phone…

"What was that?" asked Hermione as Draco reproached the bed, wondering why he was laughing so abruptly.

"They want you to keep it down," he said with a grin. He then made sure that it was impossible for her to do so with no remorse.

Draco would think, after all their heated arguments and Hermione's innate bossiness, that he should've known she would be quite a handful in the bedroom. After the initial shock had finally worn off for the both of them, and the pleasure undeniable, Hermione became quite the opposite of shy. She wasn't about to mess around with the likes of Draco Malfoy, they would, having it her way, do things the way she fancied at that particular moment.

But like a stubborn, self-serving Slytherin would stand for that.

Passionate, aggressive love making would almost always result. Rolling and tossing, clawing and pinning, it is a miracle the bed never broke.

Hermione was actually very angry with Draco on another day when against her will he got her so turned on that she let him go down on her during a carriage ride around the resort. Her own fault of course, she should've known better than to where a skirt. When they pulled back up to the hotel, the manager, who was used to checking on the young couple by now, came to ask how their ride was. Hermione was so embarrassed when she had to pretend Draco wasn't feeling well and had to rest his head in her lap.

"I told you I wasn't in the mood!" she whispered angrily as they walked back to the hotel, hitting him on the arm.

"Yes you were," he said smugly.

"Only after you made in the mood!' she cried angrily, hiding her smile.

It was then that the poor desperate hotel manager, who didn't want to lose every other customer due to Draco, made a frantic phone call to a business friend on the island.

After much begging, he had worked out some sort of deal, because then he approached Draco with a "just for them" offer.

"As our most special guests, it is my privilege to invite you to an evening on a private yacht!"

The hotel manager finally breathed a sigh of relief as the two sex addicts sailed out to sea. Draco, who had been remarkably cheery and even silly for the past few days, was very excited to be on the yacht. Hermione, who found it much easier to be cheerful when Draco was, was excited too. After they figured out how to bewitch the boat to drive itself around the island all night, Hermione immediately went to the mini bar, snacking on the chocolate frogs and jellybeans.

Draco took one look at the bottle of firewhisky and was quick to pop it open. Hermione smirked as they both instantly went where goodies were, they truly were just two young kids allowed to run free on their own. Hermione couldn't help but notice how a happy attitude suited him better than his regular grim snooty demeanor. But maybe that was because one rarely saw a fun loving Draco and Hermione couldn't help but feel like she was in on some special treat. She wondered if it had anything to do with being away from his house and other Slytherins.

After gorging herself on candy, Hermione took her own bottle of firewhisky and began to tour the yacht, which was, once again, nicer and more spacious than her entire house back in England!

"Draco! There's a Jacuzzi over here!" she yelled to him.

No one answered.

"Draco?" she called.

"That's Captain Draco!" he said, emerging through the door in a captain's hat he had found.

Hermione giggled, "You look like the Skipper from Gilligan!" she told him.

"Who?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head as her giggles subsided, "Never mind."

"No!" he said, "Tell me!"

"Never mind!" she said again.

"What? Is it a muggle thing?" he asked.

Hermione glared at the tipsy Draco in the hat, "I'll muggle your thing!" she sneered jokingly.

Next she found herself flung over Draco's shoulder, "This is what you get for being so sexy!" he yelled, and then she was submerged into the Jacuzzi with clothes on and all. The clothes did not remain in the Jacuzzi long however.

… … …

Hermione, cold, naked and still a little wet and drunk, ran to the bed and slipped under the covers. She was surprised to see a remote on the night stand. The friend the hotel manager called must be a muggle born wizard on top of rich enough to have a yacht in Jamaica. She clicked on the TV across the room and flipped through the old syndicated programs. Draco was tinkering around in the kitchen when she stopped on a rerun of Saturday Night Live.

Draco came into the room with a bowl of popcorn and another bowl of freshly chopped fruit. Apparently he was quite interested in actual muggle programming and was staring intently at the screen, feeding himself popcorn as he climbed into bed.

The two had been out of wizard England for a few days now, and Hermione was going to catch up on events if Draco was occupied by the television for the time being.

There was an article about the wedding… but it was by Rita Skeeter and Hermione didn't want to even know… she ventured on to other headlines.

"Fudge prepares for Political Convention" read Hermione as Draco laughed freely and fully at the TV, "Amelia Bones from Wizengamot to speak at Convention"… "Bill to strengthen anti-muggle prank penalties up for consideration"… "Goblin Freedom bill to undergo another reform"…

Hermione frowned at the headlines. Things definitely were in an uproar, the Goblin Freedom bill hadn't passed of course because of the traitor influences among the Ministry, and any bill introduced that had anything to do with harsher punishments for muggle related offenses would surely see the same treatment, and if by some miracle were to become a law, it would take an incredible amount of time. They could reform and reform bills as much as they could so that they may never be properly passed and enforced.

Disgusted, Hermione flipped to the second page only to be presented a picture of Lucius Malfoy, standing behind his desk importantly, yet a friendly smile was on his face. "Famous philanthropist Lucius Malfoy taking a keen interest in the Social Issues of Wizarding Europe and the World Abroad".

"Oh please," Hermione muttered aloud.

Draco looked at her with concerned curiosity and she moved the paper over as to let them both read, "Looks like your father has been very busy while we've been here…"

"Lucius Malfoy, no stranger to all the departments of the Ministry of Magic, having donated quite profusely to a number of noble causes, can be seen within the building more than ever these days. The reason? He claims that as a man of privilege and modest influence he has a moral obligation to help. Malfoy believes, quote: "the wizarding world is seeing its most perilous times." According to Malfoy "the very good and respectable nature of wizardry is being jeopardized by increasing despicable acts." Perhaps wanting to protect the sanctity of all that is magic is the reason Mr. Malfoy is getting more involved in issues that he feels are of the "utmost importance"…"

Hermione could barely stand reading it. Apparently Lucius was getting very active in all kinds of organizations and political groups. He felt it "was important to do his part"; "keep the wizarding world safe and the very nature of wizardry respectable" and that all true lovers of magic and good citizens "should care and participate in the daily routines of the government," or so said the article. "Get involved" it begged.

Meaningless propaganda dribble that basically meant nothing but made Lucius sound very caring and professional.

'Why?' thought Hermione, her mind plagued by perplexity, 'why invest all **of** his time… into this?!'

Skimming the article even further, she discovered the Lucius was using his "outstanding professional relationships to help rehabilitated ex-convicts find adequate and respectable work"

'Oh no!' she thought in horror, Lucius was trying to get Brusto a job at the Ministry.

"Karkaroff met with Counter Nicholas Greenly earlier today for an interview, the outlook looks promising for a man starting over…" she skimmed further, "'I find it very important that all wizards can take care of themselves financially,' Lucius was quoted to say, 'Brusto has a boy at home with special needs he needs to provide for and he is an able and willing worker! It is horrible to me that he is having a difficult time finding work because of the stigma he receives from being in Azkaban! It is discrimination like this that needs to stop! The Ministry needs to do more for equality! Any person, whether they've been reprimanded by the law, born to non-magical parents, or, or, even bitten by a werewolf should be treated fairly!'" ….but Hermione's mind had already wondered away from Lucius's lies, they hadn't said anything more about Greenly, the name she was suddenly most interested in, the name she recognized from Augustus and Landon Malfoy's unpleasant conversation…

"Who is Nicholas Greenly?" Hermione asked Draco.

"A Counter for the Ministry," he replied, trying to finish the article.

"Yeah but what does a Counter do?"

"Well they do the most work around election time," Draco said matter-of-factly, "You'll be hearing a lot about them in about a year, when they hold the next election for Minster of Magic, the first one we'll be old enough to participate in. The Wizengamot member representing the area we live in votes for who the majority of our area wants. Counter's count the Wizengamot votes and officially declare the next Minister of Magic, it's a very rare and prestigious position, there's no way Brusto will actually land that job… I hope my Father doesn't try to make a big deal about it. Honestly… Ex-Azkaban prisoners with Ministry jobs? Equality my arse, putting criminals in charge of political positions is the stupidest thing I've ever heard…"

But Hermione wasn't listening to Draco's annoyed ramblings about his Father's embarrassing public musings very closely, "Why is that job so prestigious?" she inquired.

"Because they ensure a genuine result," he explained, "You have to be a very powerful wizard to be a Counter. They create and maintain the powerful magical artifact known as the Trove of Smoke; the Wizengamot puts their votes in it. It's impossible for any member to try to cheat and vote twice or change someone else's vote by magic or anything, because the Trove of Smoke detects it.

"That sounds a lot like the Goblet of Fire," said Hermione.

"Yes, it's very similar, it's a complicated object that others can't trifle with," said Draco.

'Barty Crouch Jr. didn't seem to have any trouble,' thought Hermione grimly, recalling how Harry was entered into the triwizard cup. "But surely any magical object could be hoodwinked if you worked at it hard enough?"

Draco looked at her like she had just said she had been abducted by aliens once, "I suppose so, but I don't think a Wizengamot member would ever want to try…"

Hermione frowned a bit, "Good point" she finally answered, "… but what if someone else wanted to?"

Draco had never heard such an odd question, generally most wizards didn't imagine such absurd things happening, "Well it is heavily guarded by the Counters," he said slowly, "and they have enchanted ballots and everything too, you can't fill one out without special identification saying you're a Wizengamot member, then there's signatures and special I.D.'s and stuff, which only Wizengamot members have…"

"Hmmm…" said Hermione and nothing more. She was looking at the article once more, strenuously trying to find the significance if any of Nicholas Greenly and her head was beginning to hurt… Why did he look so familiar anyways? Hermione was sure she had never met him… but where had she seen him?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Draco's scoff.

"'Generous nature'? 'A true patriot'!? Lucius? Hardly! Who writes this rubbish?"

"That fucking bitch Rita Skeeter," muttered Hermione before she even realized it.

Draco looked over at her with wide, surprised eyes, "Wow," he quipped, "That was testy."

"Sorry," said Hermione, "It just took me forever to get rid of her and now she's back, causing even more trouble than before."

"Get rid of her?" he asked.

"Yeah," Hermione explained vaguely, then she kind of shook her head at the idea of explainng such a complex story, "I kind of... blackmailed her. But she deserved it! She was writing horrible lies and breaking all these rules and invading privacy, so I told her I'd expose her… see, she's an unregistered animagus and Harry, Ron and I discover-"

"I know she is," Draco said suddenly, uninterested in any explanation that involved having to hear about Potty and the Weasel.

Instantly the image of Draco and his fellow Slytherins whispering into the hedges popped into her mind, "Oh yeah…" she said, "You were the one fueling her with such great ideas," she said coldly.

There was a stony silence.

"That was years ago," said Draco finally, "I mean, we were14, like we really knew what we were doing…"

"Yeah," she said firmly, "I suppose getting Hagrid's dragon taken away was an accident too," she recalled bitterly aloud, "and you didn't think Buckbeak would _really_ get his head chopped off when you were so unceasingly faking that injury did you? And telling me you hoped the Death Eater found me next, that was just for laughs…" she was unloading her most horrible memories of him quite profusely now, and Draco could sense the hostility rising.

"Hey!" he said defensively, "You know very well he'd have to give up that Dragon sooner or later! And what are you, nutters? That hippogriff never got his head chopped off, he flew away didn't he? And I don't even know what you're talking about with the whole Death Eater's getting you nonsense, I don't know why you'd go and bring up such ancient his-"

"That night at the world cup with the dark mark," she barked, "in the woods! You blatantly insinuated that you hoped the Death Eaters got me next."

"You remember that?"

Hermione's face dropped into deep offense, "Yes!" she said, "_I do_! But I can see how you might get it confused with the time you said you wished the heir of Slytherin would take me down into the chamber of secrets!"

"What?" said Draco in bewilderment, he specifically remembered saying that to only Crabbe and Goyle in the Slytherin common room, "How did you even know I said…? I never even said that to you."

"So what?" she said, her cheeks flushing pink with emotion, "You still said it, didn't you?"

"Yes," he said softly, seeing painfully for the first time the impact he had had on her, "I did."

He really didn't know what else to say. He didn't want to talk about it, take responsibility for the obvious unforgettably painful marks he had left on her; he didn't want to see the ugly affect he had on such a beautiful face…

Draco Malfoy didn't know the first thing about apologies, having never had to make them often, given who he was. What were these feelings? Was he being pulled by his conscious to say sorry? He didn't like the feeling one bit, it felt… bad. Horrible. Guilty?

He grew even more annoyed and foul tempered. How much would you have to mean it anyway? And how much did he mean what he had said in the past? If he _did _apologize… _would_ he mean it? How they were they even said? Where did one even start? He did not know…

"We were just kids…" he uttered finally.

Hermione didn't know why she expected more from him but she quickly realized that she shouldn't have, "We're still just kids," she muttered softly, her face still burning hot from the suppressed tears.

'Don't ask Hermione, there's no point…' a voice said softly in her mind. But Hermione didn't listen…. She had to at least _try_ to find out why…

"Why were you so mean to me?" she finally said.

Draco stared off into the room for a bit, making his face completely void of any telling emotion like he so expertly could, "I don't know."

Not wanting to talk, to look at him, anymore, she slumped down deeper into the bed, handed Draco the remote and rolled over to sleep.


	24. You had your fun, now get back to work

A/N: More of my silly inspiration in this chapter, except it seems so long ago now. So apparently fanfic has stats, and quite a few of you have me down for an author alert, which rocks, but I don't believe I recognize a good chunk of your names as reviewers, which doesn't rock! Thank you to those who take the time to let me know what you think, I truly appreciate it. To my other alerters, I understand it's extra work, but I'd still love to know what you think. I can't be certain, but I hope you wanting alerts on my story can only mean you like it at least a little, that's what I'll tell myself anyways :) At the very least, I'm very flattered you take the time to read my little story. I'd like to make it better for you based on reviews, but hey, whatever peanuts your butter. Hope you like this chapter! and HAPPY NEW YEAR

_… … …_

_"What are you thinking?" asked Harry in a sing-song tone, spinning his wand across his finger and thumb like a bored student in the middle of a class lecture, breaking the studious silence of the room._

_ "Just about the mission…" mumbled Hermione from the bed where she was lying on her stomach, not looking up from the parchment sprawled out before her. She wanted to give one last look to the guest lists and the strange letters between the Russian Magical Mafia and known Death Eaters, hoping their mystery may just magically pop into place._

_ "Liar…" drawled Harry slowly._

_ "How would you know?" asked Hermione, then quickly she lifted her head from her reading to actually look at Harry while she addressed him, "You're not in my head are you?" she demanded._

_ "No!" cried Harry as if insulted, "Merlin Hermione! How many times do I have to tell you! I don't go in unless you tell me its okay."_

_ "Okay," said Hermione regrettably, "I'm sorry…"_

_ "Besides," Harry grumbled fiercely, "You can feel me!"_

_ "OKAY," said Hermione again, feeling like he was rubbing her nose into her guilty mistake, "I said I was sorry."_

_ "I mean you make me promise, and I do," he ranted, "Do promises from me mean nothing to you then!"_

_ "I SAID I WAS SORRY," Hermione repeated in annoyance._

_ Harry just glowered at her, frowning slightly. Hermione returned to going over the documents in front of her and Harry took a seat at the edge of the bed._

_ Suddenly Hermione recoiled her feet up into her legs, "Harry! Sod off!" she barked._

_ Harry laughed. "Tickle, tickle."_

_ "C'mon Harry, I'm busy."_

_ "C'mon Harry," he teased, mimicking her voice, "C'mon Hermione! It's Christmas Eve! Let's not work tonight."_

_ "Actually Ravenclaw," said Hermione playfully, "its 12:13, its Christmas day…"_

_ "Well then all the more reason to be merry!" he declared, and with a flick of his wand the papers in front of Hermione slid into a nice neat stack, flew across the room and landed on the hotel dresser._

_ "Haar-yyy" she whined, reaching for her own wand. But Harry was too quick for her and zapped it inches out of her reach with his own._

_ Hermione sighed, "Alright Harry, what do you want to do? Sing carols?"_

_ Harry gave her one of his shameful puppy dog smiles and a humored scoff escaped Hermione. She rolled over and sat up, wanting to give Harry a hug._

_He gratefully embraced her and rocked her playfully back and forth in his arms. The next thing Hermione knew Harry was giving her soft warm kisses on her neck._

_ "Harry…" she whimpered apprehensively, "Someone will be back to get those papers from me any minute…"_

_ "I locked the door…" said Harry, still kissing her neck all over._

_ "Seriously this time?" asked Hermione, trying to see if she could tell from her distance from the door, "You always forget..."_

_ Hermione took Harry's movement from her neck to her mouth as all the answer she would get. After feeling his weight subtly push into her Hermione laid back, allowing Harry to position him self on top of her…_

_It was hard for Hermione to fully enjoy herself at times like these; after all it was hard to get in the mood if you were constantly worried about being caught._

_ 'Relax,' she told herself, 'you know he needs you... you're his only comfort these days…'_

_ But she couldn't relax, even then. It was like she knew, even more than other times. She had a premonition that someone would walk in on them, which is why she told Harry to just go up her shirt and not to take it off… It would be easier to recover that way should someone barge in …_

_This, among other reasons, was why Hermione made Harry swear never to go into her mind without her saying so. She couldn't feel him. His quiet looming presence in her mind wasn't currently there, honestly it kind of tingled. It made her head feel like it had extra weight in it. No, thank goodness he wasn't there. _

_One can only imagine his reaction if he had just read her previous thoughts. Planning how to make it not look like they were fooling around while they were supposed to be fooling around? He'd be livid if he knew. Not to mention should he catch a thought that had any association with the fact that she felt like she had to do this for him, that she was only with him for his sake… that she only wanted to help a friend…_

_She closed her eyes tightly and gave him a moan, slowly grazing his back with her fingertips the way he liked…'Just give him what he needs…' she thought. _

_And suddenly, clear as day, she felt the undeniable presence of someone else. No! Harry can't hear these thoughts!_

_ 'Harry!' she thought harshly. She was very angry he would try and sneak into her mind, 'What are you doing here!' She demanded to know._

_ 'What?" said Harry's confused voice inside her head, 'Hermione look out, you're going to bump into that serv-'_

_ But it was too late, suddenly Hermione was no longer snogging with Harry on a bed but upright and feeling herself bump right into something deftly solid and hearing a loud crash._

_She opened her eyes. She had run into a man in a stiff formal looking tuxedo and a silver platter he had been carrying had fallen to the floor, resulting in a loud clamor of noise. She quickly looked around. She was in a hallway._

_ Surprised, Hermione stuttered, "I'm- I'm so sorry," she uttered._

_ "No, No, my apologizes Ma'am," said the server, "No need to fret, nothing has spilled, the platter was empty, I was just going back for a refill."_

_ Hermione was looking frantically around for the hotel room in confusion, where had it gone? She looked down; she was in an extravagant evening dress. Her hair; black._

_ "Do you need some assistance back to the ballroom?" asked the server, interrupting her uproarious thoughts._

_ "Ballroom!" she asked._

_ "Just down the hall and through those doors…" said the servant, pointing. Then he picked up his tray and headed off towards what Hermione could only imagine was the kitchen._

_ 'That was close,' said Harry's voice in her head, 'No one was supposed to see you sneak in.'_

_ "Where am I Harry?" Hermione asked, "What's going?"_

_ 'That was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in.'_

_ "What?" asked Hermione, he had already said that…_

_ 'That was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in… that was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in, that was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in, that was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in.'… rang Harry's voice over and over in her head._

_ 'Stop it!' she thought, clutching her temples, confusion and now sudden fear mounting._

_ But Harry's voice only grew louder and faster, louder and faster, 'That was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in, that was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in, that was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in, THAT WAS CLOSE; NO ONE WAS SUPPOSED TO SEE YOU SNEAK IN'_

_ Hermione's head was beginning to bang with ache and confusion. "GO AWAY HARRY!" she screamed._

_ And suddenly he was gone. _

_ She was alone in her mind._

_ 'Great,' she thought, not sure which was better, Harry going crazy in her brain or total solitude in a strange place. _

_Her decision to try to get out of wherever she was through the ballroom was based on its strange pull, where things seemed eerily and strangely familiar._

_The second she even opened the doors and stepped in she was bombarded with drunken people in fine attire, dancing and laughing. They scared her; they were swirling and whirling all around her so. They bumped into her and shouted in her ear, she could barely stand without feeling like she'd be knocked over. _

_On top of that, a flock of birds were flying over head. Then with a closer look she realized Lucius's revolting crow was picking a fight with the Owl Draco had adored so that night in the Malfoy Owlery. Looking at all the other birds she saw they were all exactly the same, either an evil putrid crow or a beautiful large Owl, dozens of them, all identical and all flying about the room, fighting with each other…_

_ "They'll run green and you know it!" screamed a party guest right next to her. _

_ "Are you mad?" retorted the man he was apparently talking to, evidently neither of which cared they practically yelling in her ear as they're conversation took a harsh disagreement._

_ "If the water doesn't run red tomorrow then I just don't know what the bloody world is coming to!" he added, shouting not only out of anger but over the noise and music of the party as well.._

_ "Earl, would you just listen for once?" said the other man, sounding very boisterous and annoyed, "I'm not saying I don't think Fudge SHOULDN'T be impeached, Merlin knows he can't control a damn thing, I'm just saying he WON'T be. Never once in the history of the Flow of Fate has the water run red. Only a bleeding heart loyalist to democracy like you would still believe in the power of the people, and in the Flow of Fate. Half of those idiots at the annual political convention tomorrow don't even take the ritual seriously… they'll just automatically vote the water to be green, whether or not they really want Fudge to finish out his term…"_

_ Hermione tried desperately to squirm away from the two debaters before her ears burst._

_ "Alright, alright," said the other man, appearing to calm down, "I guess you're right, no one ever utilizes the Flow of Fate properly… You just startled me there for a minute, you know there are a lot of wizards out there who think Fudge is doing a good job…"_

_ Hermione heard no more of their conversation, having finally found a space in between the crowd just wide enough to squeeze through. Just in time too, she was about to get a pounding headache. She had completely forgotten that Fudge would be making the 3rd annual address of his 4 year term tomorrow at the annual political convention. Even though the convention occurred every December she had been so busy with the Order she hardly had time to keep up with current events._

_She couldn't help but agree though; she hadn't liked Fudge since her 4th year at school. A lot of people didn't. But like the man had said, she had no idea how long it had been since the Ministry actually impeached and voted out a Minister before his term officially ended by voting the water red. He had a point when he said no one took the opportunity to do so seriously. The Flow of Fate just seemed so out of date and old fashioned…it seemed during the opening ceremony all the delegates habitually voting the water green was as ritualistic as the rest of the proceedings._

_She tried pushing through the crowd, somehow knowing things would be calmer if she made it to the other side of the ballroom… These people, this party… it was all vaguely familiar._

_Finally she weaseled her way through the party attendants, reaching a refreshment table. Sturgis Podmore was standing by it as well._

_ Hermione's mouth dropped, "STURGIS? You're alive!" she exclaimed in shock and excitement._

_ "No," he said calmly, "but don't you worry, I consider it paying back what I owed."_

_ "What?" asked Hermione, afraid and confused._

_ "Never mind that now," said Sturgis, "You're a married woman!"_

_ Hermione crinkled her forehead with deep perplexity, no she wasn't… what was he talking about?_

_ "Oh how marriage changes everything Hermione!" he went on hurriedly, "You'll suddenly find yourself willing to do anything for someone, even if the connection is only by law! I know it's hard to believe coming from me, having never been married myself, but I watched the change in my sister, Marietta Podmore- Excuse me, Marietta Baggins! Why I'm not even related to __Clyde__ by blood yet I find myself thinking I'd do anything for him!"_

_ "Sturgis," Hermione interrupted, "What is this place?"_

_ "This? THIS!" he shouted, "This is a party! The question is: Who am I going to dance with? Lucius or Dumbledore?" And with that, he vanished._

_Hermione turned about in circles, scanning the room for him, looking for where he had gone, but instead she only found the most bizarre line of tap dancers._

_Lucius, Brusto, Landon and, and… Nicholas Greenly… all tapping and smiling pleasantly together._

_Instantly forgetting about Sturgis, Hermione's fear subsided and before she knew it she found herself marching right up to Nicholas Greenly._

_ "I knew I'd seen you before!" she told him._

_ Nicholas smiled what seemed to be apologetically and shrugged, continuing his tapping to the sound of an ol' timey style piano._

_ "But you didn't seem this happy last time…" said Hermione pensively, "Yes, sir, you were annoyed."_

_ He just continued to dance in the line up with the other three, all of which didn't seem to acknowledge her presence but continued tapping upbeat and smiling at the guests. _

_ "I didn't mean to startle you," he finally said oddly._

_ "It's okay…" answered Hermione._

_ "If it makes you feel any better, that gum you like is coming back in style…"_

_ "What?" asked Hermione in bewilderment, "Now you've confused me!"_

_ Suddenly he stopped dancing in his place, ironically looking like the ridiculous one next to the other three, and looked her square in the eyes, "When I'm confused, I write everything down," he told her firmly._

_ Hermione just looked at him inquisitively._

_ Then he turned to look at his dancing partners, "I need to get back to work, Goodnight Lucius, Landon, Brusto," he said, bidding farewell to each with a polite nod. Then he turned back to Hermione, "You however," he said, nodding at her as well, "Good morning!"_

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Had someone just called her name?

All her life she had had the most bizarre and random dreams, mixing elements of reality and memory with the ("with the peculiar and fantastic" don't sound right with the sentence…try re-wording it or adding a few words) peculiar and fantastic… But hey, even though it would take her awhile to realize the change, her crazy random dreams were far better than the nightmares of horrible, horrible memories that had plagued her for the last few months. At least her weird dreams were kind of funny to her.

It was very true though, ever since she had a partner in her bed with her, she hadn't had a single nightmare. In fact, she was totally taking for granted how rested and invigorated she had been feeling lately.

She yawned pleasantly, stretching out her arms.

"Hermione!" she heard Draco yelling from up deck for what possibly could have been the second time, "come here and look at this."

Hermione wrapped her naked body up in a satin white robe and went to the origin of his voice.

Through the darkness of the very early morning Hermione could see Draco was standing at the railing at the stern of the yacht looking out into the distance. Hermione went up next to him. Draco glanced at her briefly but quickly turned his head back to where he was looking.

"Sorry if I woke you," he said, "I've just never seen the sun rise on the ocean before and got really excited, I thought you might want to see it too."

Hermione smiled, "It's ok, you didn't wake me, I've never seen it either."

Then they both turned to silently watch. Hermione couldn't even organize her thoughts regarding how beautiful it was when the first rays of light appeared, and how the water seemed to reflect every color of the rainbow as the sun beams hit the ocean at different angles, then the fragments danced and twinkled in the rhythmic rise and fall of the waves. The black star filled sky slowly succumbed to the soft sky blue that slowly faded into the pink that was coming from the sun bobbing half way out of the ocean's surface. Slowly but surely it grew more and more sky blue.

The wind was blowing and the sun wasn't up far enough yet to radiate any heat. Draco glanced over to Hermione who was too hypnotized by the amazing spectacle to even realize she was shivering. Draco put his arm around her and pulled her close to him, it made him unexplainably happy when her goosebumps went away and she put her head on his shoulder.

Draco and Hermione were both assuming the same thing about the other; that they had forgotten about Hermione's repeated question the night before.

"We need to take the yacht back soon," he said randomly, "We're going home today."

Hermione said nothing to this, but continued looking out into the ocean. Going back to Malfoy Manor? Already? Of course already, they had been away for a week. It's just that… after the first night she honestly didn't give much thought to anything else but fine dining, dancing, lounging and getting shagged by Draco and living the high life in a far away tropical paradise.

And now suddenly she was supposed to go back? Go back to sadistic Lucius and his scheme with Voldemort with unknown intent? To that stuffy house with those horrible and conceited guests? Go back to where the Order hardly considered her feelings or her well being?

She could kick herself for being so stupid. Of course she had to go back. No matter how bad she perceived the Order she knew it was only because her mission was extremely difficult, but regardless difficulty she must not let it bring her down. She was a captive yes, but also a spy. She had faith that somehow she'd bring the Order right to Voldemort's doorstep.

Then it was only a matter of time. They all would pay, every Death Eater. Wormtail, Crabbe, Parkinson, Lucius, Draco…. The image of Draco in Azkaban struck Hermione very strongly and suddenly she could not define her array of feelings…

"By the way," Draco somewhat mumbled, breaking her train of thought, "My aunt has given us a wedding gift."

"Yes?" said Hermione.

"It's, um, well, plane tickets. We're going to take an airplane home."

That was the last thing Hermione expected to hear, "Airplane? Not portkey?"

"No not portkey," Draco said briskly.

"But airplanes are so muggle," said Hermione, slightly shaking her head in confusion, "who in your family would…"

"My aunt Andromeda…" Draco said quickly, "quite the black sheep. But she, uh, is very nice and knew that it would be something that I would kind of… find interesting. She wasn't at the wedding, not invited, she uh, mailed me the tickets. Lucius doesn't necessarily know… he may think we're portkeying very late this evening when really we'll have been well on our way by then and picked up and dropped off at the front gate, no big deal really, just thought you should be aware." And with that he turned away from the stern railing and disappeared down into the cabin of the yacht.

After watching him hastily take off Hermione turned back to face the now fully risen sun.

The basketball court, television… even the willingness to try Mountain Dew and now plane tickets? Just how prejudice was Draco anyway?

Hermione felt as though she had millions of things to sort out in her mind and placed her chin in her palms, leaning against the rail and pondering deeply as she stared out into her last oceanic view as Draco had begun charting the boat and the voyage back to shore.

… …. …

The clothes Hermione had just shoved into a suitcase had found themselves once again sprawled across the hotel room floor as Draco shoved said suitcase out of his way in order to throw Hermione down onto to bed and remove her clothing all the while passionately kissing her.

The thought must have struck them both very hard and deep at the same time. They were going back to Malfoy Manor. Back to their preordained roles of muggle-born crusading Gryffindor held captive and pureblood Slytherin supremacist with the key to the cage in his pocket. Lucius would be around, and they'd be back in the public eye. Certainly no more shagging. The two of them together just wouldn't make sense there, not like it was there in their hotel and their tropical island sanctuary, that parallel universe where the two could actually mutually hook up without consequence.

Best get as much of it in as possible then.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder if the idea was taking badly to Draco, he never had been too keen on quickies as far as she knew. But he made passionate almost desperate love to her when they had mere hours to catch their plane. Hermione was sure Draco must have never heard of the mile high club, the way he was going at her like it was the last time.

But only Draco and the pleasure Hermione knew came along with him could keep Hermione, a stickler for plans, punctuality and responsibility, away from packing and ensuring they make the plane on time. In fact she wasn't even worried about it; she was screaming and moaning in ecstasy.

And from that, she grew a little sad. It felt good to be so distracted by something pleasurable that she hadn't the mind capacity to worry about her usual Hermione worries, it was so liberating. She NEVER got a vacation like that; Draco was the only one who could do it. And soon it would be gone.

If only they could stay on the island forever, enjoying each other's bliss in their paradise. No Lucius and his perverted counterparts, no Dark Lord on the rise, no betraying best friends, no mission.

Quickly Hermione was ashamed of herself. She had to complete her mission! While Draco made her feel as though other things were more… important… better… she knew she just wasn't thinking clearly. She would complete her mission; Draco had just been an unexpected perk.

Draco roared loudly and then his whole body relaxed. For a brief moment he still had Hermione pulled into him. He lowered his head, resting his cheek in her chest with his eyes closed, feeling her catch her breath while he caught his.

Casually he raised his head and released Hermione to get herself redressed. Then the two slid to the floor, gathering up the clothes that had spilled and quickly shoved them into their luggage, giggling slightly at their sudden haste.

As they were running out of the Hotel's grand entryway, climbing into their limo and taking off to the airport, Hermione took one last look at the beautiful ocean and wondered airily how Draco would act towards her when they actually got home.

… … …

"Quickly!" Draco barked as he, Hermione and a house elf lugged their luggage up the large Malfoy Manor stairs "He'll wonder why we took so long to portkey!"

Getting to Malfoy Manor from the plane took longer than Draco had thought, and now he was worried Lucius would question him.

But when the main door swung open Lucius could not be seen among all the others passing by the foyer in route to other places of the house.

"Draco…" said Hermione, "Who are these people?" The house felt to be quite fuller than usual.

"I'm not sure," said Draco, although some of them looked familiar, "I think that one is from Lucius's office… that one too… but that one is from another department…"

"Is he having a meeting?" Hermione asked with sudden Order inspired interested.

"Not that I know of," said Draco, "I mean it would be unlike him, he hardly ever brings people in areas of the house not intended for entertaining guests."

Hermione smirked, 'no wonder', she thought, 'with so much to hide.'

"Oh bother," he muttered, "I'm not sticking around to talk to these bores, I'll go see if mother is upstairs, tell her we're home."

Draco left Hermione there in the foyer alone with the elf and strange guests. She studied them, they seemed busy, distracted, almost worried even. Suddenly there was a tug on her arm. A house elf was trying to get a bag from her.

"We can take care of these for you miss," he squeaked.

And as if so flashy Hermione saw it out of the corner of her and just knew, she looked up the stairs to see Rita Skeeter in a bright yellow business suit walking along with Lucius.

"…remember," he was saying, "Don't print it till this Friday, the Monday before the Address…"

But Hermione didn't stick around to greet them; she had already dashed along to her quarters, hoping they hadn't seen her.

… … …

It was late afternoon, the sun was beginning to disappear and soon the house-elves would be in to light the candles for Hermione to read by. She had been in the library for hours, save for her breaks where she'd wonder around the south wing, looking for Sarah or Draco… But Sarah was no where to be found, and the only sign of Draco was the light coming from beneath his study door. If he was in there, he hadn't come out in a long time. Hermione was bored, almost lonely even, but not quite bad enough to leave the south wing and venture the rest of the house, Rita could still be here, reporting on whatever it was exactly going on.

But a growl in Hermione's stomach, in addition to her restlessness, helped her decide to brave the possibility that Rita may still be around and go to the kitchens for food and the slight possibility of running into Sarah, who could maybe be cleaning there.

Much to her disappointment no one in the kitchen was over three feet tall. After letting them talk her into a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup Hermione took a seat at the counter and pulled Wednesday's Daily Prophet over to herself while she waited.

"Fudge announces he is re-running for Minister of Magic" read an intriguing headline, pulling Hermione's attention into the article:

"As it is well known, the end of my eight year term is one from this December, the time when the Trove of Smoke is open once again to the Wizengamot, who shall elect your next leader," Fudge was quoted to say in answer to Rita Skeeter regarding his run during a brief address today. Although the public conference was intended to focus on the upcoming annual State of the Union, Ms. Skeeter's question digressed the topic slightly as Fudge continued, "Well, I'd like to announce today that I, Cornelius Fudge, am re-running for Minster of Magic and this months convention will focus largely on my stance regarding current issues, rallying up supporters and getting a kick start on fundraising for my new campaign!"

The announcement caused quite a stir among supporters and critics alike. Fudge's recent actions pertaining to muggle relations and the silent yet solidly growing threat of the re-rising of He-who-shall-not-be-named has undergone much scrutiny. As Fudge has almost already completed his 1st eight year term, he is only eligible for one more.

Of course, the Ministry will be accepting applications from others seeking candidacy. Running mates will also be announced at next week's State of the Union convention, although it is unknown as to whether or not anyone else is interested in the position. A reliable 3rd party can confirm that the much rumored as interested and highly acclaimed Albus Dumbledore is in fact not interested and will not apply for candidacy. When asked, Fudge referred to the rumors he has shown signs of believing at one point as a "gross misunderstanding" and would describe his relationship with Hogwart's Headmaster as "very professional".

Never-the-less, next weeks convention will be the very beginning of what is sure to be a long year of self-promotion and campaigning from all those interested in running. As always, the Daily Prophet will be the source for all your information needs regarding the candidates and the progression of their campaigns."

Hermione finished the article with mixed feelings. She wasn't surprised Fudge would re-run, and she was fairly confident he would win, mostly because he was the only well known person willing to do the job. But what the hell was Rita doing at a press conference about the State of the Union coming up? Since she had wormingly gotten her job back she wasn't allowed to do front page news. No, Hermione had been pleased to see it was only back page gossip dribble for her. True, she hadn't written the article, but she and her off topic question had been mentioned in it. Rita even being allowed to do field research at the press conference irked Hermione enough.

She sighed in stifled frustration and tossed her napkin onto her now bare plate. Perhaps a long hot bath and then she'd go to bed early…

She collided into a brooding, stiff figure in attempt to go through the kitchen door.

"I'd say welcome back, _mudblood_, but your clumsy stupidity just reminded me how unwelcome you truly are," said Lucius's harsh voice with a particularly extra dose of venom.

Defense and dislike quickly filled Hermione at the sound of his insults, "Clumsy…stupid… _mudblood?…_ don't you mean Malfoy?" she brandished back.

It took Hermione an extra second to figure out the hot throbbing pain on her cheek and the jolt to her head and neck was because Lucius had smacked her across the face, it had been so surprising after all. Of course immediately after she felt like an idiot: he called her a mudblood out loud, surely he should've known that meant he was alone, no one around to be fake for…

And if only she had looked Lucius in the face before speaking to him first, she would've noticed his eyes were wide and piercing, and he had a smug half smile on his face. His shoulders and chest were puffed up and held high, and he had a little hop in his step.

Only so many things could make Lucius Malfoy appear so happy. He was, no doubt, on a power trip. If only she had noticed at first, Hermione would've known to be more careful. But the smack had now become more of a smack into reality. Lucius Malfoy was a goat sucking bastard and her every breath should be toward bringing him down… Each throb in her cheek was now an unceasing reminder and she surged with anger…

But she didn't provoke him further, she knew intuitively now was not the time.

Lucius had been staring at her intently; waiting for her response, any reason to beat her further… but to his dismay she did nothing out of line.

"What was that for?" asked Hermione softly, not looking at him.

"Looking back, I've realized you haven't been a very good houseguest. I've been too lax with a loudmouth brat like you; you've gotten away with far too much. A good host draws lines, and now you know I demand respect."

Then he pushed her aside and asked an elf for a bottle of champagne.

Hermione knew instinctively that he must have something he wanted to celebrate, and it filled her with a sudden strong and horrible feeling. Suddenly, she felt very behind, overwhelmed and rushed. Her inefficiency and dillydallying rapidly made her extremely upset. There was no more messing around, with a sudden and desperate urgency she felt she needed to figure out what was going on and fast. Once she did, she could escape, warn all the others and finally take down Lucius and his evil empire. She needed to do all this, before it grew too late.

Before Lucius had whatever his ultimate goal may be to celebrate.


	25. Under pressure

A/N: AAAAH! I really hate the first half of this chapter! I kept trying to rewrite it and it would just get worse and time was flying by and I figured I better just post the damn thing! It's so redundant. And I can't tell if it's because the stories needs the recap or if I do to get back in the groove. I'm pretty sure the story needed it; I'm hoping I'm right anyway or I will have made you read boring summations for no real reason. I did try to make Hermione book 1ish again just to give her back some character credit. (No matter how good the set up is they will ALWAYS seem a bit ooc after doing it!).

I really should've written and FINISHED this story before I ever posted it, to make sure I really could write a mystery. Because I'm struggling to find ways for it to all come together with no lose ends in an interesting way. Now I'm doubting if all the unanswered questions are even worth wondering about, because I just didn't make them interesting enough.

Grrr I'm frustrated. Hopefully this chapter will be likeable by the end. Smut usually saves everything. However, I am extremely open for suggestions on this one, I may even do a little rewriting if I get enough guidance. So please, let me know what you really think.

Also, I'm scared it will be anti-climatic. I've already done the whole long drawn knock down drag out war in AM and I really don't think I can think of another one. And no offense to all the wonderful and delightfully imaginative fanfic authors out there, but this late in the game it's almost stupid to try and write Voldemort's defeat in explicit detail, because it will be nothing compared to how J.K. will finally do it. I think I just feel super rushed to finish before this story won't make sense anymore due to whatever happens in the 6th book when it comes out (JUST A LITTLE OVER A MONTH!). Besides, despite the 1st chapter (with implications I have long since given up on justifying), I've stopped trying to do the end of the war and have been more interested in Draco and Hermione's relationship dynamic.

I'm sounding super insecure and I apologize. Another thing that has made me hypersensitive is that I wrote a kick ass crucial scene. I even called up a friend and read it to her and she said she got really emotional. This girl is usually like an ice cube! I was very pleased with myself. And then I closed out without saving. AHHH! The re-write SUCKS in comparison. I just can't make it how I had it before and I'm very disappointed.

Anyways, I'm trying real hard. (Maybe that's why it sucks… I never really tried before, I was just carefree, letting my fingers and imagination go wild…) I'm digressing. I just want to ask you to review. They never fail to pump me up and inspire, whether they are nice or not. I'd really appreciate your feedback.

Enjoy. (I hope…)

… … …

Hermione hastily closed the door to her room, leaned against it and heaved a large bitter sigh. She stroked her siring hot cheek gently and looked sullenly into her dim dwelling.

'Think!' she ordered herself. 'Marriage, the Ministry,' she thought now frantically pacing about the room, 'the same people popping up over and over again!'

She could barely keep it straight. Her heart was racing; she felt like a failure, why didn't she know what was going on? She had been there for practically ten weeks!

She needed to calm down; she'd never get anything done in such a state. She stopped in her place and forced herself to breath in, relaxing the tenseness in her shoulders. She sat restlessly down at the room's vanity table in a huff, as if succumbing to her helplessness. She missed seeing Crookshanks there, napping at the foot of the bed. She hoped he was alright, and that, stubborn as he was, he would make his way back to her room soon, as hard as it might be for such a small thing in such a large place.

Peeping out from between the dust ruffle of the bed and the bedroom floor was a corner of the Daily Prophet, where Hermione had been hoarding her stolen copies all this time.

She was very, very aggravated that it was coming to this but in the end she decided it was best. She would have to look over everything again, read **every** Daily Prophet she'd ever taken, retrace the events surrounding her current circumstance. She sat on the floor near her bed, preparing herself to become an expert on the order and detail of everything that had happened.

Almost immediately Hermione regretted this decision simply because it was so torturous for her to read it. All of the articles pertaining to her, most being written by Rita Skeeter, were dreadfully trite, boring, sorry excuses for news and full of such flat out lies that it made Hermione fiercely angry at the thought of them! But she read on. And on and on and on. She worked backwards through her stolen stack of newspapers and skimmed every page, so sure there must be something she had earlier missed.

She was near the bottom of her pile and feeling hopeless once again. She was ready to quit after re-reading the article about her and Draco's first "date" at Casa De Amor and nearly threw the paper across the room in disgust. Instead she hastily yanked the paper entirely open, so that it's inside articles could be read.

And then it hit her once again as hard and as sickening as it did the first time she laid eyes on it.

"Azkaban prisoner Karkaroff makes parole".

Hermione shivered in horror, recalling seeing the monster again, out of prison and at her own wedding. Against her will her memory flashed with the image of him murdering someone in cold blood right before her eyes as she screamed for help in vain.

The picture in her mind was just a mere flash of the entire horrible ordeal that had haunted her in her dreams ever since.

She shook the image out violently. She looked back down at the paper. Like one unable to turn away from a scene of a horrible accident, Hermione, forcing herself, began to read the article. Her knuckles were white from gripping the edges and her entire body was as stiff as stone. She couldn't handle the lies he told, about how it was self-defense… how he couldn't control himself… that he didn't know what he was doing... He knew exactly what he was doing! He was taking an innocent man's life…

She was reading along steadily despite having read it months before…"Three months prior to his conviction of magical manslaughter…"… she was still very angry but quite unsuspecting …"Brusto spent one evening in jail after being suspected of espionage involving a Ministry of Magic employee"... when she stumbled upon one name that quite instantly struck her with much oddness, "Clyde Baggins, a Counter for the ministry, was suspected of passing confidential information to Brusto Karkaroff and was thereby fired, despite proof, while Brusto was released without further charges or investigation.

Suddenly in a whirlwind of what her eyes were reading passed into her mind, she was tickled with strain, trying to recall the seemingly unimportant and therefore nearly completely forgotten… she had heard that name before… a few times even, but once, at least once, quite recently…

Her dream!

Sturgis Podmore! He had mentioned him in her dream that last night on the yacht! He had mentioned his sister's husband… her name was Marietta Baggins, her husband: Clyde! Clyde Baggins! …How very strange indeed.

Hermione's face was scrunched up in confusion. It didn't make sense, thinking up a name in a dream and randomly finding it to be a real person days later was far too big of a coincidence.

She began to wonder if she had heard the name before, that it had slipped into the deep caverns of her mind when she read the article the first time, only to reappear most randomly months later in a dream.

But that didn't sit well with her.

'Everything in that dream was a real memory in some way or another…' she thought, straining to check that everything that had happened in her dream that last night on the yacht was based on what happened in reality, 'Going to Brusto's party the night I was captured, the first time I recall seeing Nicholas Greenly…' she began to list, retracing things in her mind as if trying to convince herself, 'It was all there; My dress, the black hair! How I almost got caught sneaking into Kararoff's mansion, I can distinctly remember Harry saying "That was close"... That all really happened.

"And even before then… that other night in the dream, before everything suddenly changed and I was at the party… Christmas night, the night Harry and I first had…. Well, it was all there. All of it was real. I couldn't have possibly made up the name of "Clyde Baggins" on my own. Sturgis must have really mentioned him to me at some point, he was quite fond of his sister after all… was what he said about marriage legitimate? Has he and I ever conversed about stuff like that at Grimmauld Place or something?'

While it was happening the dream of course felt extremely strange, but that was nothing compared to how she felt about it now. It really had her quite shaken like never before.

'Is there more to it?' she wondered intensely. "Oh I'm so confused!" she cried out loud.

_"When I'm confused, I write everything down."_

The words came out of no where, but she knew immediately who had said them.

Nicholas Greenly, in the same dream! He had been talking nonsense, and randomly gave her that advice before hastily taking off.

While it didn't seem wise at the time, Hermione suddenly took it with much less hesitation.

She felt as if the answers to the mystery were right in front of her. She had all the events, she had all the names, and all she needed now was to put it all in the right places!

She scrambled to her vanity table and hastily opened one of the cupboards, letting some parchment and quills she had helped herself to from one of the spare offices come spilling out. Next she swiped everything off of the surface of the table, making a clean clear space. She grabbed the lantern from off of her end table and placed it neatly on the vanity table while spreading out her parchment and inking her quills then setting them neatly on the side.

Finally she set her stereo to some Coldplay, opened her door a crack and called down for some butterbeer to an elf dusting a painting. Lastly, she took a hefty seat at the table, pulled her chair in tightly and cracked all her knuckles while taking a deep breath in.

She had recreated one of her famous Hogwart's study environments.

And no wonder people thought her a bit of a nerd.

But she couldn't mind that now, why it may be anal-retentive she knew she did her best work in organized settings and what she really needed right now was a successful intense thought session! Greenly knew what he was talking about after all.

While she was still a bit hesitant, not having a clear purpose or goal in mind, she began to write anyway. She didn't even know what for, or what she was even writing, but Greenly kept pecking away at her… maybe if she had it all in front of her she'd be able to see it all clearly.

'…It must have been late fall when the Order got wind of Lucius working with the Russian Magical Mafia…' she thought, writing it down. 'Then Ron infiltrated Kararoff's mansion as a chimney sweep and stole a copy of the party list, I remember the all-nighters I went through making sure he could pull that off… We all worked together trying to figure out what they might be up to; I remember it being especially stressful around Christmas, tons more all-nighters there…. Then Harry and I snuck me into the party… I was supposed to gain access to closed off quarters through Ivan by any means necessary…otherwise known as seduction,' she thought glumly, 'then petrify him and get the "secret and highly sensitive documents" from the room just next to his while Harry was to act as my guard and back up,' she recalled, remembering Dumbledore's exact words from a debriefing.

'Well that all worked bloody brilliantly,' she muttered, sadly writing down that she was captured that night.

Then she was there for nine whole months. What happened during those nine months she couldn't be entirely sure. But for as far as she could tell… well, nothing happened. It was like Voldemort and his followers all laid low for awhile, like they were suddenly out of offensive moves.

Were they some how stopped even though Hermione never successfully collected those papers Dumbledore so desperately wanted?

That all kind of made sense… her prison guards did have a pretty low moral when she first arrived there. However, it didn't last very long.

Maybe at first they seemed a bit worried or hopeless, but Hermione knew for a fact that by the way they would gloat around her and tease her from the other side of her prison bars after a few months had passed that they had been slowly gathering a plan. They'd taunt her and tell her it was "only a matter of time" in between calling her names or throwing her food at her.

The memory of the prison was just too horrible. She quickly jumped to the next event, when Lucius most randomly showed up to take her away.

Around the exact same time all their usual suspects, Voldemort and the death eaters, the Russian Magical Mafia and suspicious people within the Ministry, began being especially active again. She looked down at her list noticing it was practically a year exactly that they all came together again, that they all seemed to be planning and working together. What were they all up to? And how did one whole year have any significance?

And then a rock quickly formed in Hermione's stomach. It was fast approaching one year since she had last seen Harry. Since the night he betrayed her…

She had not thought about him since her wedding day. The day Ron finally told her the truth.

And she had Draco to thank for that really. It was he who distracted her. It was he who kept her busy and her mind only focused on the feel of his hands and the slide of his tongue…

She tried to shake the thought of him out of her head. She couldn't go to Draco now! Not when he was practically hiding from her. Not since things would have to be different again now that they were back at the house…. would they? Yes of course they would. She was being silly.

What happened between Draco and Hermione on their "honeymoon" was a complete fluke. No one would ever know… it would be like it never even happened.

'Ugh,' she thought, amazed that Draco could manage to distract her without even being in the damn room. She didn't want to be distracted now! It was time to work! And yet… she didn't want to think about Harry either. She'd have to confront that demon some other time. And it was sure to be hell. Who wants to acknowledge the fact that they never ever want to see their best friend again?

Oh bloody perfect, she had thought about Harry again anyway!

But it was no use… she could now see all too well in her memory's eye Brusto's ballroom and the crowd of shady and cynical wizard socialites around her.

_"I'll occlument to you again later,"_ rang his words in her ear as she inconspicuously observed the party… The last words he had spoken to her.

The all too familiar feeling of dread choked up Hermione's chest again. The feeling that her heart could barely pump it was being clenched so tight. The utterly horrible feeling of betrayal.

'Oh 'Mione,' she told herself while clutching the painful tightness within her, as if her heart could break anymore… 'I told you not to think about it."

Once again, for the millionth time, she wondered why the Order never came for her.

Why Harry abandoned her in the first place.

It was driving her mad. It felt beyond terrible, knowing she was so easily discarded by the ones she believed to be closer than family. After all she had done for them! After all she was _still_ doing for them! She couldn't imagine anything harder than tolerating the scum of the earth such as the likes of Lucius Malfoy terrorizing her family, throwing her at the manipulations of Rita Skeeter and her public impacting lies, subjecting her to the presence of the man who haunts her dreams at her own forced wedding and even getting smacked across the face whenever someone pleased!

No, no! This wasn't what she was supposed to be concentrating on! It was thoughts like that that got her absolutely no where!

But it was too late. She was already loosing the battle. First her lip quivered. And she tried to force her eyes to stay open as surely blinking would make a tear drop. But she could not get the burning image of Harry out of her mind.

He was smiling friendlily at her and laughing softly. The smile he used to give her that made her instantly feel loved. But how could that be? People who love you would never do that to you.

She couldn't shake the smile out of her mind. And in the end, she didn't even need to blink, for the tears had formed enough on their own to fall.

Before she could even feel the hot trickle slide down her face to her chin she lost it. Her shoulders shook violently and she sobbed. Tear after tear rolled down her cheeks as her whole body burned hot and tense. She'd gasp desperately for air, unable to breathe normally, unable to sooth her sobs. She felt her head grow heavy from lack of oxygen, but she could not calm down. She cried and cried. Moaning in helpless pain. Her whole body was a rigid sobbing wreck. She got up from her seat and walked over to her bed only to collapse down onto it, hoping her pillow would stifle her wails. She cried and cried and felt she had no say in whenever she would stop. She was exhausting herself to the point of complete emptiness…

… … …

_ A group of tall looming men entered into the now destroyed room, each in dark cloaks, faces looking menacing. Their broad shoulders blocked off the exit completely. Hermione froze. Fear overcame her._

_ "Bellatrix said we'd probably find you here," said the infamous Brusto Karkaroff himself._

_ She had limited options, she knew there wasn't much she could do to get herself out of this. "Touch me and you'll regret it!" she said as strong as she could, pointing her wand right in his face._

_ Brusto merely smirked at the small girl before him. The top of her dress was half ripped off and she was missing a high heel. Blood tickled down her nose and there was a cut by her eye that was darkening and beginning to bruise, but her worst wounds were the tiny sliver cuts all along her arms from rolling around the ground in broken shards of glass. The hand holding up the wand so determinately could not hide its uncontrollable shake._

_ Then came the laugh. His putrid maniacal laugh. "I think you'll be the only one with regrets tonight," he finally said._

_And then for the first time Brusto appeared to notice the still body on the floor._

_ "Ivan?..." he asked. "Ivan!" he repeated again. He rushed over to him and rolled him over, "IVAN!"_

_ Brusto was shaking him now, but Ivan made no response._

_ Immediately a companion mobster was by his side, he had enough sense to check Ivan's pulse._

_ "He's still alive," he whispered from under his dark hood._

_ Brusto slowly rose up from where his son lay. "You have no idea how lucky you are. I thought he was died. I would have killed you right here… Hell, I think I just might anyway…"_

_Horror raced through Hermione's body. She could barely believe the words even though Brusto was already raising his wand. She wanted to move out of the way, duck, scream a counter curse, anything! But she couldn't move or speak; she just looked him desperately in the face, her bottom lip quivering. His back up Death Eaters and Mobsters were all moving in closer behind them now, backing her in the room with no escape._

_Brusto's lips were forming the words and Hermione scrunched her eyes up tight-_

_She felt the rush of wind and the spatter of more glass shards swoosh at her back as the gut-wrenching sound of a breaking window filled her ears._

_ "Lower your wands!" shouted Sturgis._

_ Hermione looked over at the man who had just burst through the window on a broomstick and grabbed an unsuspecting Death Eater by the shoulder, taking him hostage with a wand right at his throat. She was utterly confused. Sturgis wasn't even involved in the plans for this mission, just what was he doing there?_

_ "What the hell is this?" asked Brusto, distracted from giving the unforgivable curse to Hermione to be slightly entertained by the intruder who thought he could save her._

Hermione looked at Sturgis with desperate confusion, "What are we going to do to get out of here?" she mouthed quickly.

_ Sturgis peered over at her with the corner of his eyes, "Hope back up comes, and quickly." He whispered, using his struggling captive to block his mouth from his lips being read._

"You better just back down you silly old fool," shouted someone from behind Brusto.

_ "Never!" shouted Sturgis, "You better lower your wands. I mean it! I'll crucio him like there is no tomorrow!"_

_ Brusto's eyes narrowed. He then turned his wand from Hermione to the cloaked man Sturgis was using as leverage. "CRUCIO!" he yelled, zapping his own follower to unconsciousness._

_The unknown Death Eater went limp in Sturgis's arms and Sturgis had no choice but to drop him._

_Hermione was too appalled by the fact that Brusto had actually turned the crucio curse on his own man as a means to show he wasn't one to be trifled with, that Sturgis was able to push her stomach down to the ground with ease, as she was most unexpected of it._

_Within a blink, jinxes and curses were going off over her head. She peered over her shoulder. Sturgis narrowly managed to dive behind a skewed sofa for cover._

_She tried to push herself up with her palms, hoping to make it to the sofa like Sturgis had, only to hear him shriek "Impedimenta!" at her._

_Her arm gave out from beneath her, making her collapse back onto her stomach._

_ "Stay down," he ordered in between pivoting in and out from behind the couch, sending jinxes then quickly withdrawing to dodge them._

_She tried to look up as much as she could, she saw enough to know the middle of the room was a battle ground of flying jets of light. She looked eye level across the floor again. Her wand was yards away. She had to get to it, she began to army crawl._

_She prayed most of the attention was on Sturgis, who was putting up a much bigger fuss, and she was quite lucky to even make it to her wand as she army crawled across the room, but as soon as she wrapped her outstretched hand around it she heard a crucio called out in her direction._

_She rolled as quickly as she could. She felt the singe of the carpet as it narrowly missed her shoulder. From lying on her back she tried the best she could to aim and fire at the Mobster intent on stopping her, but her heart raced with adrenaline as she feared his would reach her first._

_"AAAAAH!" screamed an unknown Death Eater just in front of Brusto's mobster who had noticed Hermione. He had taken a jinx in the eye and was doubling backwards in shock and pain, knocking right into Hermione's assailant._

_The Mobster's curse again narrowly missed her at the shoulder and before she could even thank her lucky stars for the freak window of escape she rolled over and crawled behind a half smashed liquor cabinet._

_The blinded Death Eater had fallen at the other's feet. After kicking him away and regaining his balance he quickly returned his focus and aim to where Hermione had laid on the floor only to find her gone. He hadn't the chance to fully survey the room for her when she petrified him from behind her cover._

_Three of them now down, and the rest, especially Brusto, were growing particularly furious that the two of them had managed to evade dismantlement for so long._

_With intense hate they heavily shot jinxes at Sturgis. Hermione saw one slinking back along the wall, hoping to get him from behind the sofa, where he was unguarded_

_Hermione had no choice but to jump out from behind the liquor cabinet and jinx him. The Death Eater was lifted up and knocked against the wall. He collapsed into a crumpled heap, bringing a painting crashing down with him so loudly it could not be missed. Brusto quickly turned to see Hermione out in the open._

_He lifted his arm at her. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he formed the "Av..." -Sturgis leapt up out of no where- "eda kedarva" he uttered._

_ "Protego!" Podmore tired to say._

_The unforgivable curse in its streak of green form merely split Sturgis shield curse into two strips. There was no counter curse. It just slowed it down as it hit him in the chest as he moved himself in between it and Hermione._

_Hermione couldn't recall screaming, but the Death Eater's, as would most people, remember it as the shrillest, most horrified scream that had ever entered their ears._

_She managed to sloppily catch Sturgis as he gave way at the knees, and she lowered herself to the ground as to not let his sinking weight make her drop him._

_She watched something she'd spend the rest of her days wishing she didn't, that she never had to. She watched his eyes grow dark and lifeless, his skin draining of color. She would always remember the feel of his skin as he looked at her with desperation and took her hand, tickling her palm with his fingers that grew weaker by the second. Then he clutched her hand with his and gave her an awkward, aimless shake._

_ "In noctum tuas commendo spiritum meum" he whispered breathlessly._

_The last mindless gestures and words of a dying man. And then she felt it, his warmth leave. His life leave. Right in her arms._

_And that horrible chuckling laugh. She looked up to the sound of the noise approaching her. She opened her mouth to scream as Brusto's raised fist came down onto the top of her head-_

She was bound! She struggled and fought, there were ropes and arms closing in on her! Someone was yelling at her. She screamed and kicked and flailed her arms around!

"HERMIONE!" yelled Draco, "Shhhh, shhhh, its ok," he said.

He was sitting on the edge of her bed. His hands were holding her down by the shoulders, but gently. The ropes? She had managed to make a tangled mess of her sheets. She was dewy with hot sticky sweat. Her throat burned, she had been screaming.

Draco watched her big brown eyes so ready to cry. Wide and intense and glistening with water. But they didn't cry. She was holding something back. She was looking at him with fear and confusion.

"I came to drop something off…" he said hastily, trying to explain his intrusion "And then you started screaming in your sleep…"

But Hermione didn't look distraught because after practically a whole day of not seeing her, not addressing the awkwardness of their situation now that they were back at the house, he was unexplainably in her room in the middle of the night.

No, she hardly cared about that. All she cared about was that she saw it again. The whole thing. Even though she didn't want to. Finally, her nightmares relieved all that had happened, and Sturgis's murder looked and felt just like it did the first time. Something she never ever wanted to see or feel again. It was like hell on earth. Even Draco at his worst couldn't bother her right then…. in fact, she was grateful he was there.

She suddenly snaked her arms through his and hugged his neck, drawing him in close for a heavy hard kiss.

Draco was stiff at first but it didn't take long for the warmth of her lips to relax him. Hermione sighed when he slide his whole tongue into her mouth massaging hers firmly while wrapping his arms around her neck in return. Soon his body weight was sinking into her and she was completely distracted by him.

His pleasurable sucks on her neck that could not be ignored and the untying of the drawstrings on her pajama pants chased away any lingering after feeling of dread and horror. With his undeniable presence hovering above her, concentrating on pulling his thin tight white muscle tank off from over his head left no space for thoughts of the dream.

Then there was just the hot skin and contoured muscles of his chest and stomach, his hair falling loosely around his face as he looked down at her possessively, framing his piercing silver eyes that bore into her. Soon he would be in her, distracting her, replacing pain with pleasure. Soon he would be in her and there would be no room for anything else.

… … …

Draco was trying hard to keep a serious face. "Give it," he said through gritted teeth, tugging.

"No way," said Hermione with a giggle, she knew he wasn't serious, "You have enough!"

"Bloody hell I do, you always hog them!" he said.

"Do not!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yes you do," insisted Draco, "You're a bugger blanket hog! And-," he chided, "You snore!"

Hermione scoffed, "I do not snore!"

But Draco was already laughing. Hermione scolded playfully at him.

"I mean it," he said, trying to pull his serious face again, "Give me some covers or else!"

"Or else what?" Hermione demanded with a laugh.

Draco eyed her sourly.

Suddenly Hermione's body lifted up into the air and she was laughing uproariously, flailing her arms about. Draco had begun tickling the sides of her stomach and she released her clutch on the sheets to try to grab or shoo his hands away.

With her grasp undone Draco quickly pulled the blankets over to himself leaving her in just panties, exposed to the cool air!

"AH!" she cried, "its freezing! Let me have some back!"

Draco shook his head smiling smugly. "Don't worry, the fire is getting bigger," he said. Which was true, Hermione's contours and curves were being accented by the soft orange light that was filling the dim room, and her brown hair had streaks of blonde pop out in the flickering shadows. Her eyes seemed to glow as she shot a pleading desperate look at him.

"Draco!" she screeched.

"Lose the knickers," he said.

Hermione glared at him, "All this because I put my panties back on?"

Draco just smiled cheekily.

Hermione glared at him. By the time she had peeled them off and handed them to him they were both smiling. He allowed her into the sheets and then proceeded to roll both of them up like a bed burrito.

"Mmmm, warm now," he said, content now that Hermione's bare skin was next to his.

Hermione merely smiled at him. He couldn't resist her perfect smile. He began smooching her face with kisses and she giggled, curling her legs around him.

"Mmmm," he said again, "Another go in a few minutes?" he asked.

Hermione looked at him with shock, "Four times?" she asked.

"What?" said Draco defensively, "I'm young you know… virile and whatever have you…"

Hermione laughed, "But still…"

"Well I can't help it…" he began, "You're just so… Ahh! I don't know."

Hermione giggled again.

Draco was flustered just by the thought of trying to explain it, "The way you…" he said, unable to finish any thought, "And how you know when to… and when I…" he stopped short, "Bloody hell you know just what to do! It's like you're a bloody expert."

Hermione blushed and scoffed, "hardly!" she blurted.

Draco looked over at her. She watched as curiosity crept over his face.

It had never occurred to him before… And suddenly he was quite concerned. He looked thoughtful yet held back… "When you and I…" he started, trying to word something carefully, "That wasn't your… I mean you've had…"

Hermione blushed even harder at first but then just laughed, "Um no," she began to say.

Draco sighed with relief.

"Not really, no."

Draco's relief was replaced with mild confusion. "Not really?" Draco repeated.

"Yeah," said Hermione.

"What the hell does that mean? Not really?" he said.

"It means not really."

Draco was quiet for a moment. "You do know what I'm asking right? I mean the way I see it it's a yes or a no, 'Not really' is kind of new to me and I'm having a hard time picturing how that would work…"

Hermione huffed, "Well it's complicated," was all she said.

"Well do tell," said Draco, most interested to know.

Hermione looked hesitant, but she could tell Draco was waiting.

"Well... if you must know, during my first time… I was, I was uh, interrupted."

Draco laughed like she knew he would.

"I'm sorry," he immediately said, trying hard to stop, "I wasn't trying to be a dick, it's just a funny thing to happen is all. Who caught you?"

Hermione mumbled something.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Dumbledore," she repeated in annoyance.

Draco's eyes widened. She could tell he was holding in a big laugh, really trying hard.

Hermione scowled. But then suddenly she was laughing too.

"Dumbledore didn't see anything!" Hermione felt the need to clarify, "I mean we had been alone in the room and_ just_ as him and me, you know… started…you know, really …"

"Right after he slid it in?" said Draco, saving her the trouble.

"Um... yes," Hermione confessed, "Dumbledore knocked on the door. We managed to cover it up nicely by the time he was in the room. So no, I wasn't your cherry, thank you very much," she chortled.

"Who was it?" Draco asked.

Hermione cast her eyes away from Draco, suddenly uncomfortable. She sat up and was suddenly very interested in staring at the fire.

"Who?" Draco repeated again, a bit unexplainably hostile.

"Harry," she said.

Draco was quiet for a long time. Hermione was surprisingly interested in seeing the expression on his face, but couldn't find it in herself to look over at him.

"How many times did he fuck you?" he asked, no tone present.

"Just that one time…" she answered

She felt him sit up too.

"How many times have I fucked you?" he asked firmly, she felt his breath on her neck.

They were in dangerous territory. These were things she thought they had an unspoken agreement to never discuss, to never acknowledge. But then again she never thought in a million years she would ever shag him. And as if that wasn't insane enough, that they would continue their ridiculous tryst in his own household.

Finally she looked over at him, "I've lost count…" she whispered.

Draco smiled meanly. "I win," he said. And then he pulled her back to a lying position and climbed on top of her.

… … …

Hermione's eye lids fluttered. "No…" she murmured softly to the knocks on her door. She was having a sweet, blissful, dreamless sleep.

The knocks seemed to continue.

"Not now Bubsy," Hermione said as loud as she could despite it being muffled by her pillow.

However the knock persisted. Now that she was more fully awake she perceived the sense of urgency and persistence in the knock. It had now awoken Draco too, who had raised his head off from the pillow next to hers.

"Hermione!" said Sarah through the door, "It's not Bubsy… It's important, I'm coming in."

Draco hastily rolled himself off the side of the bed to hide right when Sarah opened the door and stepped through. Hermione was wrapping a sheet around her naked body and stepped out of bed to greet Sarah, who looked most frazzled.

"I'm sorry, but it's time to get up. Lucius insists we get ready quickly and go with him to the Political Convention."

"What?" said Hermione, "That starts this afternoon! And it's all the way in London, why is he just telling us now?"

"I'm not sure," said Sarah, "But he is in one of his moods, please, just get ready. I've got to go tell Draco and then get ready myself."

"You're going too?" asked Hermione, first wondering why Lucius would want her around in the first place, but now Sarah as well?

"Yes," said Sarah, "My Dad is going, he leaves just after it's over, and if I want to spend time with him then I have to go to."

Hermione was just thinking how nice of Lucius it was to allow that, and she was wondering what Landon had done to make Lucius act so friendly towards him when Sarah's eyes widened in surprise.

Draco had revealed himself as being in the room. Hermione wondered if Sarah even noticed that he had originally been trying to hide that fact from her and was relieved to see he found his boxers on the floor beside the bed and had at least put them on.

She felt her cheeks grow hot and she looked down at the floor. She was getting her first taste of what it felt like, having someone else know about their dirty little secret. As embarrassed or ashamed, she wasn't sure what she felt exactly, whatever it was it didn't feel too pleasant, as she was in front of Sarah, she could only imagine what it would be like in front of someone who would fully understand their roles in life and the entire consequences of their actions.

Draco however, appeared as confident and intimidating as usual as he acted very nonchalant about being in her room at 5 o'clock in the morning with just his underwear on.

"He's really decided to go then?" Draco asked her.

Sarah, getting over the sight and all its many implications, finally found her voice, "yes, and he wants to go as soon as possible."

Hermione watched Draco as his expression turned serious. He nodded curtly and appeared to be thinking.

"This is going to be hell," thought Hermione, "Reporters galore will be there…" She dreaded the idea of having to make a public appearance as Draco's wife in the middle of that media circus.

"Perhaps it won't be so bad," said Sarah, "I mean all the candidates for next years election will **be** announcing themselves today…maybe all the attention will be focused on them. I know Fudge will be doing a lot of promoting to say the least, he has to formally ask to be a re-candidate and all his toughest critics will be there."

"Hopefully…" said Hermione.

"We better go get ready," said Draco sternly.

The two left and Hermione closed her door. She was on her way to the shower when she saw an anonymous brown grocery bag sitting on her nightstand. The same bag she now realized as the one in her honeymoon suite that had been so plain she had hardly noticed it at all.

Draco had mentioned he was dropping something off last night… She went over to it and looked inside. There were quite a few glass vials filled with a yellowy green liquid. She pulled one out. It was cold, really cold, even though there was nothing to keep it that way. She uncorked it and foamy fizz almost spilled over the top.

"No way," she said out loud to herself.

She sniffed it.

And then took a sip.

While Hermione had spent the day lost and alone, Draco must have spent all day in his study playing with potion ingredients he got in the Caribbean… he had made her perfect replicas of ice cold Mountain Dew.


	26. Another strange hotel room

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, really. I was being really pissy and overly critical and you guys were so nice it really helped. This one was a lot more fun to write this time! Although… I did have little spaz attack on how I should end it. I thought my ending would be kind of talked through and no action. But you know what? I tried to do action last time with AM so I think I've paid my action-dues. I'm going to go with the one I already had in mind. I guess the most climatic parts will be this chapter and probably the next, the conclusion will just have to be wrap up with only a little plot left. Hope that's alright because I've fried my brain.

I seriously can't wait until book 6 is out! Then I'll just get to READ and think about what she has done. Don't worry though, after I've read it about 10 times I'll go crazy thinking about what book 7 will be and start making up my own endings to hold me over.

Also, I've already mentioned so in my profile bio, but I've been thinking about reposting AM, does anyone know what will happen if it gets banned again? Please email me, I would really appreciate it.

Last but not least, I won't have the audacity to request you read my ENTIRE story over again, but I did add a tad bit of new content in chapter 24: "You've had your, now get back to work", more specifically the dream sequence. I should've told you BEFORE I posted this chapter but I forgot, sorry. Even worse… I posted this(chapter25) originally on 6/14 but forgot something else, so it is a tiny tad different as of 6/15. Nothing is changed, only something is added. Nothing major just another magical world feature I made up like the Flow of Fate.

… … …

Six rode together in the wizard's carriage. The whole time Hermione could not stop studying Landon Malfoy. He did not seem pleased with where they were going at all. He looked irritated and uncomfortable. Sarah, however, seemed oblivious to all of this and just held his hand or rested her head on his shoulder the whole time. Lucius spent the brief ride filling out letters which he handed to Augustus to be fastened to owls and sent off. Draco merely gazed out the window. They pulled up to a restaurant in the middle of downtown wizarding London.

"I'm supposed to meet someone here," Lucius said to the hostess most curtly.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," she answered back, "She's here already, right this way."

"They need a separate table," Lucius half demanded, referring to Hermione, Sarah and Draco.

"Of course sir…" she said.

"Be quick about it," he barked towards the kids, "This is just a quick brunch. Come now Landon…"

But Lucius trailed off. He spotted someone at another table, and it did not surprise Hermione. It was an expensive restaurant and right by the Ministry of Magic headquarters. Surely many workers came here for meals on their breaks or perhaps for lunch meetings.

She watched as the elder man he approached did not seem to smile very warmly at him. He appeared to be quite well-off and prestigious, having a quick lunch before hurrying off to a full day of important tasks no doubt. Lucius seemed to be quite friendly despite the man's unimpressed attitude. They swapped cordial hellos as Lucius offered compliments the man did not return. Lucius then turned to come back to Landon.

"Smelly old git," said Lucius with a two-faced sneer, "Hurry, she's waiting."

And with that Lucius, Augustus and Landon went off in another direction to meet with who Hermione could only assume was Rita Skeeter. The hostess sat Draco, Sarah and her at a separate table nearer to the man Lucius greeted.

Hermione was scooting in her chair when she looked across the restaurant to the view they had of the Ministry of Magic headquarters just kitty-corner across the street. It was an old granite building, which took up a whole city block in it's rectangular layout, with stair ways leading up to it and entrances set back with pillars in an almost Greek way. Tourists were having their picture taken in front of a famous Stoner Waller statue, one of the many that surrounded the entire building.

Hermione always thought though they were strangely grotesque and intimidating that they were slightly beautiful. They reminded her of the ancient statues left on Easter Island, with the thick hedge-like brow and long triangular nose, only the Stone Wallers continued down in their concrete bodies to have ape like limbs; short stubby legs with long muscular arms. Half of the Stone Wallers carried century old and extravagantly crafted battle axes, the rest, beautiful broad shields, adorned in a royal fashion.

But it was no wonder that they should look intimidating, that was their original purpose after all. Had there ever be any kind of wizard-wide emergency or security issue, the massive statues were intended to come to life, take robotic, synchronized steps forward and form an impassable seal around the building's perimeter. Hermione couldn't recall of every hearing about an event that actually caused for the need of the Stone Wallers, and she imagined if they ever had been used it must have been hundreds of years ago, because now they were only apart of wizarding-lore, a monument of sorts…a tourist attraction.

They had just put in their drink orders when Sarah pointed out to Draco that the man was trying to get his attention.

Draco, looking somewhat confused, got up and went to the man. Hermione watched them speak briefly, with a few looks over in her direction. Suddenly Draco chuckled with delight. He beckoned Hermione over.

"This is Breckon Mite, a Senior Advisor at the Ministry."

"Worked there for far too many years," said the man, smiling at Hermione. "And too many of those damn years with Lucius around."

Hermione grinned. This is what Draco must have chuckled about. This man held nothing back.

"Mr. Mite's department works a lot with my dad's," explained Draco.

"Like Lucius is hardly in his department these days," scolded Breckon, "Too busy meddling in affairs that got nothing to do with him! Not that I miss him around! I must say however…" he went on, "If Lucius Malfoy can come up with such a strapping young lad as a son, who marries such a lovely young lady…" The two smiled to this politely, "Then I suppose I could over look some of his less admirable qualities."

Draco and Hermione expressed their enjoyment of meeting him as he paid his bill and got up to leave.

"The pleasure is mine, by all means." He heaved a big sigh. "Now back to the rat race. I'm so glad this is the last Political Convention I'll have to sit in on before I retire."

The three then enjoyed a pleasant meal as Draco felt no need to be foul, having his ego sufficiently inflated for the day.

… … …

"Telepathic," said Draco.

"How come?" asked Sarah with a curious tone.

"Because you could make a person slam themselves into a wall if you were telekinetic, but it would be cooler to get in their head and make them do it themselves."

"You're so morbid!" squealed Sarah.

Hermione just laughed.

"I can't think of good ones like you can Hermione…" said Sarah.

"Trust me; I've played this a lot. Many occasions of waiting around in a hotel room, that's for sure… How about this one, would you rather die in a desert or in a freezer?" Hermione asked.

"Geez, I don't know…" said Sarah.

"Desert," responded Draco.

"What! Why!" said Hermione.

"I don't know," he said defensively, "I just hate being cold."

"Would you pick freezer Hermione?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah!" she answered, "It takes days to die in a desert, it's slow and painful and you suffer through it till the end. At least you go numb and fall asleep in a freezer after awhile."

Sarah laughed, "This game is messed up. I'm going to go see if my dad is in his room."

"Don't forget a key," said Draco, pointing to the hotel room's table.

"Well that successfully killed two hours," said Draco, looking around the room, bored once again.

The three of them were not invited to the political convention, not that any of them minded. Surely it would be boring as all hell. Lucius had gotten some hotel room for the weekend while the convention was going on, and at least they'd be allowed to talk and get up to go to the bathroom there.

They had been whittling away the time eating up the contents of the mini bar and playing "would you rather".

Now that Sarah had decided to step out Draco was hungrily eyeing Hermione who was sitting on the bed. He approached her and laid her down, immediately crawling on top of her and kissing her neck. Hermione giggled and moaned as she ran her fingers through his hair and caressed his shoulders.

They were lip to lip, deep in a kiss when Hermione murmured. The heat on her leg had startled her.

"Draco," she muttered against his mouth, "Your pal-parchment is going off," she said when he pulled away to see what was the matter.

"Oh bugger," he snorted, digging in his pocket for the folded up rectangle of thick parchment paper.

Hermione began to wonder if she could enchant his pal-parchment to vibrate for him instead of glow and grow warm when somebody sent him a message, much like the cell phone she had used during summer holidays did when she got text messages. She thought that would be much more pleasant.

Draco had finally found it and unfolded it. The words "Can you get your Dad to lower the drinking age once he's official!" appeared across it, and just underneath, the mark of the sender; "Crabbe".

Draco went over to the table and picked up a quill. "What the hell are you talking about?" scratched Draco quickly underneath it. Then both messages seemed to sink into the paper and disappear, the destination of Draco's message was magically known and was being automatically sent to Crabbe.

Just then the pal-parchment lit up again and grew even warmer. An entirely new message was coming. "This is terrific! I've always wanted to shag in the Minister's mansion" read the new words. Just under the message the word "Pansy" developed.

Quickly after that another message appeared as well. "I can't believe it! Why didn't you tell me?" Then the name Flint.

Draco furrowed his brow. Things were getting pretty strange. Draco had put his quill to the parchment but paused, too confused to know who to address first and what to say…

"Draco," said Hermione suddenly, breaking his thoughts, "do you hear that?"

For the first time Draco noticed a clamor of noise outside their room's window. Like the sound of a crowd of people developing. It must be quite the crowd, since their room was on one of the top floors and to be able to hear it from there…

"Perhaps there was a car accident out front," said Draco, the two of them going over to the window.

Hermione opened the drapes as Draco opened the window and peered down. Just across the street, where the convention was being held, a mass group of people was forming. And not just pedestrians and people from near by establishments either, but reporters as well. It was like the media circus Draco had grown to know all too well ever since he had been followed around due to his engagement to Hermione. Only this one was a bit more hysteric, and rapidly growing bigger than any circle of paparazzi Draco ever had to encounter. Journalist and camera crews were flooding the doors and it appeared more were arriving by the carriage full. Something which seemed to only attract more bystanders.

"What's going on?" asked Hermione, trying to stick her head out the window as well.

"WATCH OUT!" yelled Draco, hastily pulling Hermione back in as a large grey owl came hurling in through the window, narrowly missing hitting Hermione right in the face.

"It's a damn Prophet owl," scowled Draco, "They think they're so important, no bloody manners at all!" He ripped the paper from the owl's talons and quickly deposited a coin in his satchel. As fast as he arrived he flew away.

"Prophets only come in the morning…" said Hermione… only to see this particular Prophet had "SPECIAL REPORT" scrolled across the top front page.

She squinted at the front photo, not trusting her eyes to what she saw at first. It was a large, extravagant fountain adorned with uncountable ancient markings. The Flow of Fate.

Hermione had seen it before in text books. But the water was never running in any of the photos, the spouts and basin were as dry as a desert. It only ran once a year, and when it did it trickled green water. Hermione could only imagine what green might have looked liked when she studied it briefly years ago. But she would not need to leave it up to her creativity to know what red looked like, for the picture unmistakably showed red water gushing from its pumps.

Hermione watched as confused shock spread across Draco's face. His eyes went left to right across the page, widened, and appeared to go left to right again, as if he couldn't believe what he read the first time.

"Fudge has been impeached!" he finally uttered aloud.

"What!" gasped Hermione, rushing over to see.

"The Goblins stormed the convention," said Draco, "Apparently they were quite pissed off. They've found the money in Fudge's campaign vault to be counterfeit! As soon as the ministry heard they immediately ordered they vote on the Flow of Fate. They voted the water red…"

"My god," said Hermione, not believing Fudge, who was a lot of things, to actually be a fraud too. "So he's out of office? We have no Minister?"

"No," said Draco, "Red water doesn't mean he's officially out of office yet, but emergency powers have been turned over to the ministry."

"Well what happens now!"  
Draco lowered the paper and looked extremely forlorn. "They've nominated candidates for an emergency election… They'll vote tomorrow… the winner becomes Minister."

"Draco what's wrong?" Hermione asked as Draco's already porcelain complexion turned gray.

"They've nominated my dad."

If possible, Hermione turned grayer than Draco. She was at a loss for words.

"I've got to go talk to him," Draco said quickly, "see what the hell is going on, if it's true…"

Hermione made no objection, but just watched him leave. Her eyes focused on the newspaper he threw on the bed on the way out. She couldn't pick it up; she couldn't read the article herself. She just stood there, taunted by her view of the thick capital letters "SPECIAL REPORT: Fudge impeached for faulty campaign money."

Answers, finally answers… all clicking and connecting in her mind as her mouth dropped down into an almost horrified "O" as she realized that the fake money in the vault must have been planted by…

A hand laid itself on her shoulder.

"Hermione," said Harry, standing behind her.

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin from the startle. Harry had just apparated into the room. The shock of whipping around only to be met by his intense green eyes was too much.

"Harry!" she spat.

"Gather what you have, now is our chance to leave!" he said.

Hermione just stood there looking lost. Slowly she shook her head, "Leave to where?"

"What?" said Harry, "Are you kidding? Leave away from here. Haven't you heard? Lucius got himself nominated."

Very steadily it grew on Hermione, after all the many sudden surprises were beginning to dull just a little, that she was furious with Harry. Hell, she was beyond forgiveness with Harry. She never wanted to see Harry again. His presence there in front of her infuriated her.

"No," she said most unexpectedly.

"Excuse me?" said Harry, sure he misheard her and was looking like he was growing more anxious by the second.

"Why leave now?" she demanded.

"Because it's dangerous!" cried Harry in a surprised and nearly angry manner, "And it's a great chance to bail."

"It's been dangerous this whole time!" snarled Hermione, "and you could've come to get me at any moment of it! No, I'm not leaving now, not when I'm actually close to finding out what's going on. Not when I need to be here if we're ever going to think of a way to stop this scheme! There's no way I'm going ANYWHERE with _you."_

"Hermione!" gasped Harry, sounding surprised and hurt.

_"_Quit pretending to suddenly care about my safety!" Hermione was almost yelling now, "Merlin knows you were probably sent here by someone else. You think you can just show up now and expect me to just GO? With YOU? After all I've done? After all I've put into this?"

"Mione, don't be stupid! Now's not the time to go into-" said Harry

"No!" she screamed, "Piss off! I'm going to stay here and wait for Draco."

"Draco!" barked Harry.

"Yes," said Hermione, trying to regain composure, "He went to go find out what's going on."

"HERMIONE!" said Harry, very anxious they hadn't left yet, his surprise of her not coming wearing off and now turning into full anger, "You can find out what's going on from the Order, not _Draco_," he said, drawling out Draco's name in an unflattering fashion.

"And what could the Order find out before he does? I'm staying at my post Harry, I'll report back later."

"Damn it, Hermione," said Harry, "I've come here for you and I'm not leaving unless you're with me." Harry aggressively grabbed her by the wrist and yanked very firmly on her arm, trying to draw her near to him so they could apparate together.

Hermione struggled and fought to get his grip off of her, if she refused to hold still then he couldn't take her with him when he went. "That wasn't your attitude the last time you saw me!" She yelled, beating on him with balled up fists, "Go away! Apparate! I don't need you! Go away!"

"Stop it! Mione! Now's not the time!"  
"Oh okay," she yelled, "I'll just wait another nine months! No big deal! So go away, Draco will be back soon!"

"Why are you calling him Draco?" demanded Harry, her formality towards him was beginning to get annoying.

But Hermione wouldn't stop trying to push him and hit him into leaving. He felt he had no choice; he drew his wand out of his pocket.

Hermione saw this and screamed. She whacked his hand out of her face just as he set off the jinx.

"DON'T YOU EVER TRY TO CURSE ME AGAIN!" she screamed as she pushed him, this time to the ground. Only he took her with him.

Again she continued to beat on his chest and shoulders, all of her aggression towards him being let loose. Her emotions were running ramped. She started to cry. Harry tried to talk to her, to soothe her, to get one bloody word in between her wails and hits and demands of "LEAVE, LEAVE!"

"Go away, you'll blow my cover for when Draco comes back," she finally managed to choke out.

Hermione had called Malfoy "Draco" for the last time in Harry's opinion. And if he couldn't get himself to be heard over her screams… well he'd just have to go to where she had no choice but to listen to him.

The added pressure in Hermione's cranium was instantly noticed, the murky presence of a foreign invader was undeniable. Hermione jumped up and off of him, her hands coming down into a smacking clutch on her forehead. "HARRY," she cried desperately, "GET OUT!"

But it was too late, just as quickly as he slipped into the depths of her mind, giving her no time to hide anything, he slipped back out.

He propped himself up onto his elbows, still on the floor. "My God…" he muttered, "Draco…."

"Don't you even fucking start," growled Hermione through gritted teeth, shaking her head.

"You… you… you love him," Harry said with disgusted shock.

Hermione's face turned to shock as well. She did?

The door knob turned. The door creaked open. Draco saw Hermione standing over Harry. In a blink, Harry was gone.


	27. Revelations

… … …

_"I'll occlument to you soon, but if you need me, just think strongly," thought Harry, sending it to Hermione._

_He peered through the window a moment longer to the beautiful girl among all the old and rich. Ivan Karkaroff was now by her side and Hermione was smiling at him. Harry couldn't help but be worried about her. Of course he could never tell her to be careful, it would only shake her confidence. He looked down at his watch, he needed to sneak into Ivan's room and soon._

He needed a better view of the house if he wanted to find a good place to scale the walls and climb in through a window. He turned away from the window to face the dark yard…

_ "Why hello there Potter," said a slick sultry voice._

… … …

"What in the bloody hell!" Draco fired.

Hermione just looked at him. Harry's unbelievable words ringing through her ears.

"Potter!" he asked, enraged at the very thought.

Still Hermione said nothing; she was far too flooded with so many different thoughts.

"Explain!" he screamed at her.

Hermione looked in his eyes of storm. "Is he really nominated then?" she finally asked, her face grim and serious.

"Yes," said Draco, trying to attempt calmness.

He watched her look away from him and stare into nothingness, thinking very deeply. She looked still and terrified.

It was impossible. Impossible! There was no way the members of the Ministry would actually nominate Lucius Malfoy for Minister of Magic! How could anyone let this happen?

Out of all the things that had happened, after everything she had already been through, Hermione never felt a bigger, deeper feeling of despair. The image of Lucius taking the head seat at the Ministry of Magic…. In his hand a large black quill, before him a bill. And as he would sign, millions of screaming wails could be heard in unison. The cries of muggles everywhere, as their absolute doom was implemented.

Lucius would merely be the pawn of Voldemort. Who would rise unafraid after Lucius would declare no punishment for the harming and killing of non-magical people.

It would only be a matter of time before every muggle and muggle-tolerant person everywhere would be hunted down and murdered for sport. There would be so many of them to get rid of, it would become the daily job for some. Hermione imagined the factories large masses of human beings would be herded off into, factories of death. Where thousands went in, and none came out.

The ministry had no idea what they had done. No idea whatsoever. Even if the fucking fools really were oblivious to just how close Lucius was with the Dark Lord or how deep his hatred for muggles and their supporters really ran, believing Lucius, omnipotent or not, didn't really discriminate against non-purebloods was impossible to comprehend. Who could ever believe him when he said he didn't? After all the past suspicions against him? The very idea of such a scoundrel with such a history! What could possibly redeem a man of his past! Nothing!

"It's impossible!' she thought to herself.

Bloody impossible! It had to be!

….Just as impossible as Hermione Granger marrying Draco Malfoy.

Because that's what happens when Malfoys marry Mudbloods. The whole world as everyone knows it comes undone. If one can get the people to believe Draco and Hermione, so very different people, are willingly married, convince them that such polar opposites came together in love, one can get the people to believe anything.

Even that Lucius Malfoy has changed. That Lucius Malfoy likes muggleborns.

The tormenting grip all her unanswered questions had had on her insides all those months slowly released their hold. Clarity flowed through her from her feet to her head. She could see clearly down the tunnel of the future. She could see Voldemort marching his army, with Lucius at his side.

'I know what's happening," she whispered.

She looked up at Draco and opened her mouth to say something, but she could not decide what. She closed her mouth and rushed to the chest of drawers. "I've got to go," she finally told him, opening the drawers, checking quickly in case she saw something she would need.

"Excuse me?" said Draco.

"It's exactly what they were trying to do last year…" she said quickly, she had a demeanor of only wanting to talk to herself; Draco was merely an over-hearer she didn't seem to notice. She occasionally glanced up into the mirror hanging above the dresser as she rummaged, in which she could see Draco's face and he could see hers. "They had all the "documents" ready, the documents Dumbledore wanted so badly…" she went on, "Only we must have foiled they're plans. The ruckus we caused…investigating Podmore's death… they couldn't make it to the political convention to vote the waters run red last year because they're were all in custody being questioned…"

Draco just looked at her, trying to follow her confusing rant.

"So they started over again this year…" she said with realization, "Only this time they had me," she thought glumly, "this time Lucius had some public approval."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Draco, finally ready to interrupt.

"He used me!" she screamed, "Now Lucius is going to have a holocaust of muggles. Lucius is going to win tomorrow!"

Draco looked at her like she was utterly insane. "Hermione, please calm down! Think! So he started a little hysteria, it will never last. Just because he got Fudge impeached and himself nominated doesn't mean he'll actually win. People aren't that dumb. You may have helped his reputation but nothing can help it that much."

But Hermione had already thought of that. It didn't matter if the Ministry had already begun to doubt their decision. Even if they realized they were being stupid about him by tomorrow and vote Fudge back in, it wouldn't matter. Lucius had Brusto.

"They're going to rig the election so Lucius wins," she said, "He's going to trick the Trove of Smoke."

"What?" spat Draco, she really was off her rocker, "Trick the Trove of Smoke? Are you stark raving mad?"

"Brusto Karkaroff is an expert forger!" she told him, "He's undoubtedly made fake ballots… THOSE were the documents Dumbledore wanted last year. Signed, stamped and sealed Draco! And Landon… he's their hook up, they made him set up a deal with the counter Nicholas Greenly! Nicholas Greenly is going to submit them!

Draco was shaking his head, "No, no," he said, "The Trove of Smoke will never accept them."

"And what of the Goblins then?" cried Hermione, "The Goblins Draco! They are supposed to be untrickable! How do you think fake money got into Fudge's campaign account anyway? Only Brusto could do it!"

Draco reeled her story through his mind, not wanting to believe it. He watched her in the mirror as she shoved an extra cloak into a bag, and grabbed a few bottles of water as well. She looked extremely distressed. She had no idea where she was going, but she had to warn someone immediately…

"Hermione," said Draco suddenly, "You can't leave."

Hermione scoffed, she turned around to face him, "Don't be silly, I know you'll release me. I'm going. Right now."

She made a small pause, contemplating her next words, thinking of what Harry had said, risking a lot... "…And you should come too."

"No," said Draco firmly.

Hermione's heart plummeted. It was like it was made of glass and her body was only a shadow. Perhaps she did really love him, and if he was not going to go with her then her heart was dropping… but before it could hit the ground to shatter to pieces, Draco went on speaking.

"You're not going," he said, "You can't. Not if you're right. You've got to stay here with me, with us. You'll be treated better if you behave. It's stupid to resist this. If you make a fuss then they won't go easy on you at all."

Hermione looked back at Draco in disbelief, "What?" she uttered breathlessly, "It's stupid to resist? I shouldn't make a "fuss"? You mean to tell me you're just going to sit back and let this all happen? You know what he's going to do and you're not going to do anything about it!

Draco could not stand the tone she was taking with him, what she was implying, "Yes," he said firmly, "what can I possibly do?"

"You can bloody fight!" she hollered in his face.

Draco's mouth turned into a horrible scrunched sneer, "We're not all fucking Gryffindors you know!" he screamed at her, "We don't all think stupidity and bravery are the same thing!"

She was appalled at him and his reasoning. Even under the circumstances, with what the entire world had at stake…"You're still a coward," she said, starting crying.

Draco stood, brooding with anger, watching her fall apart. "You're not going. I won't let you, it's final."

Hermione looked up at him forlornly and wiped her cheek with her sleeve. Her right hand rose out in front of her and she made the gesture of picking an apple. While doing so she said the word, "Revealio," and a wand grew out of the air from tip to end.

Draco gave a small pained gasp. Concealing and revealing a wand was terribly hard magic.

"How long have you had that?" he finally asked.

"Since practically the beginning," she whispered.

Draco looked away from her, struggling to find meaning of the evening's chaotic revelations

"Do it," she whispered firmly.

She watched as Draco gently closed his eyes, she could only hope he was undoing the binding charm…

"It's done," he answered.

And with that she jumped out the window, her cloak flailing behind her.

Draco looked at the chest of drawers she had been rummaging through. She had left behind the bottles of Mountain Dew he had made for her.

The mirror had time to give out a shrill but short lived scream before he chucked the vial right at it, shattering it to pieces, not wanting to see the sight of himself standing there pathetically alone in the room.

Augustus came barging through the door, "We could hear a ruckus all the way down at the elevator!' he yelled angrily.

Draco swallowed hard and forced his voice to return, "She escaped," he said coolly.

… … …

Hermione ran. She ran and ran until her legs felt like metal rods and her lungs burned. She had no idea where she was going, she was just headed north for some reason.

Where could she go! Surely she couldn't go to the Order. No, not Grimmauld Place, not the Burrow. Not after refusing to go with Harry, after what he had found out. Had he told them? What would they think?

Did it make her a traitor? She didn't know… but not going with Harry probably didn't help clear her of the accusation to say the least.

She couldn't go to Fudge, he had absolutely no power over the situation.

Hermione had nearly stopped dead in her tracks the minute she landed with a soft thud on the pavement outside the hotel to look up and see tall, looming figures silently demanding she stay away. The chaotic scene outside of the Ministry just across the street had gotten so out of had the Stone Wallers had come to life for the first time in many years. They lunged out there giant shields and pushed back the crowd. They blocked off all the exits and entrances with their massive rock presence, keeping the Ministry members safe inside from the reporters and onlookers till the vote was over with the following day.

Once they were invoked to come to use, all the reporters and bystanders had left. They accepted it was no use to try and get in much sooner than Hermione did. She made a few vain attempts to get in, to warn those inside that their precious and reliable Trove of Smoke was about to be corrupted, that Nicholas Greenly must be stopped from submitting the fake forms… but it was no use, no magic or physical force could get her passed the magical protectors. Even the Magical Law Enforcement had left. There was no need for them, not with the Stone Wallers there. She didn't even have a cop to tell.

Suddenly she realized she was on the steps of a dark and docile building. It must have been very late. Anyone left on the street that time of night was very strange indeed.

So she had to run. Who knew how long it would be before Lucius and his gang would realize she was gone and come looking for her.

She was choking on the pain in her throat from her gasping for air. She wanted to stop many times but could not justify doing so. She couldn't stop until she reached someone, anyone who could help her. But the burden of it all was so overwhelming she feared trying to figure it out, for every time she did she felt sick to her stomach and woozy, knowing that Lucius could be so close to destroying everything.

She considered the fact she might not be thinking very clearly, that the revelations she had just received were so terrible, so unthinkable, that she wasn't making the best choices. She thought desperately on what was the best thing to do.

Finally she stopped running. She could hear sirens, eerie creaks, babies crying, all around her and off in the distance. She realized she had run into a very dodgy section of muggle London. It was cold and dark. Definitely not safe for a young girl to be alone so late at night. She wanted to control her fear, her rushing adrenaline, her sense of aloneness, her racing mind, but she couldn't. She was wasting valuable time; she had to get away from there.

She cursed the night and starting running again. She ran and ran until she thought her legs would surely freeze up and stop moving. Finally she came to a skidding stop just outside Kensington Gardens.

Finally she managed to make an executive decision. The first thing she had to worry about was Lucius finding her again.

Well… since she had dashed off in the most random direction, surely Lucius locating her where she was at that moment would be impossible. She had managed to earn some time to take care of one of the many impending problems.

She called out to an owl, as surely there would be one available in the park at night time. It is an owl's duty to heed the call of a wizard in need.

She was most grateful when one came swooping down to her aid. She rummaged through a disgusting park rubbish bin before finding a suitable scrap of paper to write on. She used the quill transfiguration on her wand to scrawl most quickly for her parents to flee the house and go somewhere where no one would think to find them immediately.

Surely Lucius would go after them next, to hold them leverage over Hermione. She couldn't allow that, and contacting them was one of the first things she had to do.

She had done all she could regarding their safety and she hoped with stifling one of her numerous daunting worries and fears, at least for the time being, she would earn enough peace to clearly decide what to do next. But her mind was still a jumbling, horrid mess. She had exhausted herself by running.

'Stupid, stupid girl,' she thought; the heavy, enveloping feeling of soreness and tiredness overcoming her, 'You need to keep strong; you need to warn others…'

She had to get to other wizards, that's all there was to it. She closed her eyes to apparate to Hogsmeade.

Why at the very last second she chose the Shrieking Shack she did not know, but nevertheless she hastily ended up there.

She coughed on the dust as she blinked furiously, trying to acclimate her eyes to the darkness, kicking up clouds of dust as she moved. She must have ended up in the attic.

'Bloody hell,' she thought grimly. It would be most difficult trying to make her way down the numerous stories of the shanty and dilapidated house to the exit in the blackness. Surely there would be many imposing obstacles she have to climb over and under along the way.

She was absolutely correct too. Tiptoeing around jagged nails and stopping to claw the spider webs off her arms and face while trying not to squeal as she made her way… Dashing across rickety floor boards she did not trust through the halls. At one point the doorway out of a room was so caved in and blocked she had to kick at the old drywall, making an already existing hole in the wall bigger so she could fit through it. The staircases frightened her the most; they did not stop swaying.

Slowly but surely she made it to the second floor and was ready to celebrate her exit when her heart dropped. The stairs to the main floor were no longer there. It was a 10 feet drop to the landing and the wood planks that constituted the floor looked very questionable.

But Hermione had made it so far. She couldn't quit now, no matter how tired she was, no matter how shot her nerves were.

She took a deep breath in and jumped.

She landed with a heavy thud and her ankles shot with pain as she crumpled to the floor.

Panic shot through her as she heard rumbles and cracks around her. The floor dropped out beneath her and she landed on her back with a crash on the basement floor.

She moaned loudly. Why, she didn't know, it's not like anyone would be there to help her…

"Mione?" said a voice.

Hermione blinked rapidly. Was she knocked unconscious? Was she dreaming?

Ginny Weasley's face appeared over the jagged hole Hermione looking up into.

Hermione barely understood what was going on as Ginny lifted her out of the cellar with her wand. Ginny struggled with her mind power to lift something as heavy as a person, but she was becoming a strong witch.

Hermione hobbled along next to Ginny, most of her weight thrown over Ginny's shoulders with her arm and leaned. Her legs and ankles were too abused at this point from all the running and the terrible jump to carry all of her. And her back was throbbing and contorting in pain from the last fall.

"How did you know…?" Hermione tried to ask but was out of breath.

"I was doing my rounds. Harry made my Head Girl position much easier by giving me the Marauder's map, let me tell you…"

"Harry…" whispered Hermione…

"Shhh," said Ginny, "I'll tell you all about Harry later Hermione. Let me take you to Pomfrey, just you rest…"

"No," exclaimed Hermione.

Ginny stopped and looked at Hermione with deep concern.

"Voldemort…." She tried to say, "Stop him….Nicholas Greenly…"

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Darkness came. Rest.

… … …

Vincent Crabbe had just stormed into the room. He immediately approached Lucius and gave him a sort of awkward bow.

"My Father sent me straight away," he said, "What can I do?"

"Go over there!" Lucius shouted ungratefully, "They will assign you a place to search!"

As Vincent went over to where others had gathered around, hastily deliberating over a map laid out across the table, he gave Draco, who was standing silently in a corner, a curt nod he did not return. Draco's mind was much too busy for petty greetings. There were so many in the room, all were gathered together quickly to find her soon after the news she escaped was delivered.

"I WANT HER FOUND IMMEDIATELY!" roared Lucius again, unable to contain his anger from periodic outbursts.

Draco had grown accustomed to them within the last few moments, and did not let them phase his thoughts.

'She had a wand the whole time…' he kept repeating. He just could not understand why she never used it earlier. Surely a powerful warrior witch he had discovered her to be could easily find away to escape his binding charm and house months ago with no trouble at all. Why had she stayed so long? Why had she allowed things to escalate to the point that they did?

He shook his head to the thought of her being some sort of anti-Death Eater spy… How could she possibly be so high up there in such an organization? And why, why deep, deep, down, was he not surprised at all?

He was vaguely reminded of Dumbledore and all his cryptic and subtle offerings of security and welcome into his efforts and causes, promising him a place where he truly belonged. He could never come right and say it of course, not to Draco Malfoy. And Draco Malfoy, could never, ever, come right out and ask.

But they both knew what the other was talking about. Both out on a high, high, limb.

But it was dangerous. A risk with unthinkable consequences. What if his Headmaster couldn't protect him… because the others wouldn't help him? He knew he would never be truly welcomed there if who he already suspected to be involved in anything Dumbledore had forming truly was. He did not fit in there and he knew it. And since Dumbledore never _really_ asked anyway, it was always easier to never really say yes.

Just then the head of Augustus Goyle appeared in the fire place. "No one is here Lucius, it looks like this place has been deserted for weeks!"

Draco sighed with relief as Lucius roared again. He approached the table, pushing his way harshly through bodies in his way.

"There!" he pointed angrily at a section of London, "You four," he assigned randomly, "search there! There is a Magical Law Enforcement Station on that street! Scour all the alleys too! What are you still doing here? We MUST get her NOW, the election is hours away till morning; she could do all sorts of damage by then you idiots! GO!"

Quickly, Zan and Blaise Zabini along with the Lestrange brothers, apparated away in fear as others cowered to the sound of Lucius's horrible, furious yells. But Draco was very unaffected. He was still thinking of Augustus's news. He recalled very clearly the night Hermione so desperately cried over the thought of Lucius invading her parent's house; it was so expected of her overly sweet spirit. The thought that the muggles had been smart enough to leave soon after swelled a small feeling of triumph in his chest. But he was unabashed by this, and cared not at the time to analyze what such thoughts meant.

"Alright!" cried Lucius again, gathering everyone's attention, "I've just received word," his voice turned more grim and forlorn. "Due to the potentially dyer circumstances, Master wishes all who are not out searching to leave this hotel and congregate at the secret liar. We have a narrow window of apparition available so we must all go together now."

Draco thought glumly of the horrible hideous lair under the Riddle House he was supposed to be sending himself to, but as Lucius's countdown reached one and the room full of Death Eaters all popped away into nothingness together, Draco was not going to where they were going.


	28. Freedom

A/N: So… about that climax… all I can say is I hope you like dialogue.

Personally I don't mind the style the ending is in, but that may be because I've known for a long time it was going to be in this form. However, to use for reference in the future, I would love it if you reviewed this one letting me know how satisfying it was. Oh, and if there is an issue that goes unaddressed and it bothers you, please keep in mind that there is one more chapter.

… … …

The brightness took some getting used to. She blinked softly. She'd recognize that ceiling anywhere. She had no choice but to stare at it for days and days her second year. She was in the hospital wing.

She sat up quickly, giving herself a bit of a rush to the head.

McGonagall was sitting in a chair, smiling pleasantly, as if waiting for her.

Hermione hardly would've recognized her if it wasn't for her impeccable posture. She looked about ten years younger. Her forehead wasn't all wrinkled up with worry and sternness.

"Do you feel that?" She asked, "That change in the air? That's freedom."

Hermione felt a strange prickle go through her entire body, she cycled through various different things she could be referring to. McGonagall couldn't possibly be saying … no, definitely not that they had…. That he was… "What?" she finally managed.

"You'll be most interested to know we stopped the vote dear," she said, "and now Voldemort is dead."

Hermione just stared at McGonagall, wondering if she was in the afterlife, her head whirled with disbelief and confusion.

"What?" she repeated.

"I know!" said McGonagall with a joyous grin, "it's too much to believe…. Are you alright my dear? Perhaps I should wait till you're absolutely recovered to tell you the details… the news as I can imagine can be quite over-powering… I just as well assumed you'd want to hear straight away and well, I couldn't very well contain myself waiting to tell you…" she went on grinning

Numerous feelings engulfed her, which to choose to officially feel she could not decide… Her jaw hung open for a long time; no words could come. This was the biggest news of the century; it all meant so much…

Finally, "You finished it without me?" was all she spat, her tone most harsh.

Her professor sat up even taller in her chair, completely abashed, "Hermione Granger!"

But Hermione's stone cold glare did not cease, causing McGonagall to match her expression of superior disdain like only she could.

"Was that anger I detected in your voice?" she torted, "For heavens sake, I'm surprised at you! You must still be ill; you'd have to be! You're not thinking straight. I don't think you're being very logical, and that's very unlike you.

Hermione was raging with vigorous anger now, "Me? Logical!" she repeated, "I gave up the last years of my childhood to hunt down that soul-sucking bastard only to rot nine months in his jail cell! And then, once I'm out I'm told I don't really have freedom at all, but that I must continue WORKING! Marry into Lucius Malfoy's family none-the-less, -and solve the fucking mystery ALONE- only to have the rest of you go out and "coup de gras" the only man I could ever actually condone killing while I'm napping! Does that sound logical to you!"

McGonagall's eyes narrowed into defiant slits. "And what of asking that same girl, who was not only horribly jailed for nine months, but then unfortunately placed into another dyer mission that millions of lives depended on, which she valiantly and selflessly served, narrowly passing on the vital information that needed IMMEDIATE attention just in time, to fight some MORE! Just how logical does that seem?"

Hermione gulped.

"And how logical, I wonder," McGonagall continued in her famous lecturing tone, "is it to have an unconscious person at an over-throwing? Well I guess we could've just woken her up and thrown her into the mix but I don't suppose her fellow fighters would feel very safe knowing someone FIVE MINUTES out of coma was supposed to be covering them. I guess we could've just waited a few days until she was up to par but that seems quite ILLOGICAL to me, seeing how that man she claims to have worked so hard to catch would've just slipped away again."

Hermione bowed her head in shame. Why had she exploded at McGonagall? She hadn't done anything. McGonagall let her wallow in a long uncomfortable silence before Hermione could gather her voice to speak.

"I get the point. I'm sorry…" she whispered.

"Besides," said McGonagall, taking a now softer tone of immediate forgiveness and understanding, "I know I for one missed her greatly, and was so happy to see her alive I couldn't bare to send her off again. If anyone had earned a break it's her. I guess we all just thought she'd be happy knowing that we not only did it for her, but because of her."

Hermione's expression of shame transitioned to startled curiosity, "What do you mean?"

"Well Miss Granger," she said, "If it weren't for your expertly developed accomplices, we never would've gotten anywhere."

"Accomplices?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"Yes… it seems many surprising people came forward to help," McGonagall smiled, "it appears that Sarah Malfoy is quite fond of you. Enough so to risk everything, convincing her father to come forward with her as well. It was he who released Nicholas Greenly from the Imperious curse so we wouldn't have to. Saved us a lot of trouble, difficult it is to undo a curse that isn't yours. It could've risked Mr. Greenly's mind, a mind which we need to testify if we are to track down the remaining stragglers. Since you were unconscious we would have had no idea where to start if it weren't for them!"

Hermione beamed.

"Oh but I'm getting ahead of myself," McGonagall said, "I promised Dumbledore I'd send you right off to him the second you woke!"

… … …

Hermione slowly entered Dumbledore's office once she heard him say come in. She had to instantly bite her lip, not wanting to make an ass of herself with assumptions to Dumbledore like she had with McGonagall but her mind was bursting with unanswered questions.

To her dismay Ron and Ginny were sitting on the couch and Harry was in an armchair set back towards the fire place. Hermione's cheeks burned and she felt extremely nervous, like this could easily turn into her death sentencing.

She could see the old sweat and dirt on Ron's robes and face. He looked devastatingly tired and sore, but also so supremely happy and relieved that anything else, no matter the ailment, couldn't have possibly mattered. Harry was shrouded in some shadow by the tall armchair, but she got the impression he was in a very similar condition, however much less relaxed. The final battle must have been not even 24 hours ago. She could not bare look at him. There was just too much in their way now, first with his betrayal, and now him knowing her shameful secret. Had he told the others? She was dying to know but absolutely dreaded finding out…

Aw," said Dumbledore, "our Heroine!"

Surprised, Hermione forced a meek smile.

"Harry did it," he said.

"Excuse me?" asked Hermione

"He gave him Aveda Kedarva. It was a stand off between the two of them. Harry was just plain faster than Voldemort. After all the years of turmoil, it was as simple as that, a prophecy fulfilled. I make it sound much more plain than it actually was of course… however, I doubt anyone could ever retell such an account as to make it feel like one had actually experienced it…. But in any case, that's how Voldemort died. I figured that would be your first question." Dumbledore smiled warmly.

Hermione had been too shocked to fully appreciate it when McGonagall told her just moments ago in the hospital wing. The utter joy of the news was finally beginning to set in.

Voldemort was dead.

Merlin, she'd never have to fear her blood again. Excitement and pure exhilaration was beginning to surge through her body.

"And what about Lucius! Or Brusto! And the Death Eaters?" she wanted to know.

"Lucius knew Voldemort was dead and there was only one door we had to get through before we got to him," said Dumbledore matter-of-factly, "He took his own life…"

He gave Hermione a moment for this, as it would surely have an astounding impact on her, before going on to tell her the rest of the life changing, soon to be in history books, facts.

"Ron petrified Brusto, but he was most unfortunately at the top of some rather ghastly stairs. He fell down, cracked his head open. The rest are either dead or imprisoned," he answered.

Hermione was very still and quiet. Dumbledore understood he was giving her a lot to digest. He felt it was best to just keep going, give it to her all at once so that she would have the whole perspective to decipher.

"We caught them by surprise," he explained, "we fought gloriously. They under-estimated the skills of the younger ones. I heard one call out before surrendering that they were like my own personal…army." He smiled with that twinkle in his eyes.

Hermione tried with all her might to imagine it… to put herself there, to see those bastards fall with her own eyes… but how did she get there? She could not picture it until she knew all the facts… "But… how did you find their lair? How was it that you were able to catch so many Death Eaters by surprise?" she begged of Dumbledore to tell her, desperate to have a piece of the experience to call her own.

"We have young Mr. Malfoy to thank for that," spoke Dumbledore.

Hermione's eyes widened. She glanced over to Harry, hoping for him to give away what the others might know, but she could not make out his expression through the dimness cast over him.

"He- He came to you?" she stammered, trying to hide her surprise, and, what she considered to be unfortunate and incriminating, her undeniable excitement,

"Yes," said Dumbledore.

"And told you he wanted to help?"

"Yes," he said again.

"Told you he'd take you to Voldemort's lair! Personally? That he'd help you!"

"Yes," said Dumbledore once more matter-of-factly, "and help he did. He wasn't necessarily an excellent fighter, he tends to hesitate and take a lot of cover, but the boy can plan attack. He's the most cunning warrior I've ever seen. The Death Eater's hardly heard us coming under his direction. He was ruthless when it came to getting us all in with an upper hand, so that little of us would die as possible."

"Draco?" Hermione asked once again, in pure exasperation, just to be sure.

Dumbledore chuckled, "Yes."

"Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?" she stammered.

"Yes," Dumbledore said again, firmly laying his hands on the table, "Draco Malfoy revealed to us the location of Voldemort's lair and helped lead the siege."

Hermione sat quiet and still for a moment, her head buzzing… she was trying to imagine this final battle in her mind, a final battle that involved the Slytherin prince going in against his own father, leading other's into sudden danger no less… Draco was not here in the room with them. Suddenly she looked back up at Dumbledore.

"The casualties?" she asked, her tone showing she feared the answer.

"None," said Dumbledore, smiling and sighing. "Not to say it wasn't close though," looking at Ron.

Hermione turned to Ron. It was all sinking in. Just hours ago he and many others were literally risking their lives to stop an evil force, and they all miraculously made it back alive. It was just now dawning on her that she was being told things that she would be eternally grateful for for the rest of her life. She wrapped her hands around him in a giant hug.

"Oh my Merlin," she gasped, Ron could feel her begin to tremble as he squeezed her tightly, "I've wanted this so much for so long. And now it's finally here and it seems too good to be true. I can't believe it. I just can't believe it. It's finally over!"

"This is the happiest day since the Boy who lived," said Dumbledore, "and I'm so happy all of my kids are alright…"

Hermione smiled, tears filling her eyes.

"But I still sense unrest."

Hermione looked sharply up at him.

"Today should be a day of peace, and we will not leave this room until it is so. Hermione, dearest, I want you to tell us what is bothering you."

Hermione lowered her head. Her falling curls hid her face from the others. She did not want to be called out in such a way, but her heart was already racing at the mere thought of the memories… She was very still for a long time. When she finally looked back up she could look only at Dumbledore.

"He was my best friend," she managed to say steadily… but the rest got choked in her emotions, "And he left me there…." She inhaled sharply, wishing for nothing more in the world than to get this sentence out in one piece… "He left me there and Sturgis died and I might as well have! He left us there for his own personal revenge…. He left us to go after HER!" she screamed.

"NO!" shrieked Harry, finally showing a sign of life from his shrouded chair. "I did not!" he screamed, jumping up to a stand, "I did NOT! She came after me! She ran me off Hermione! I had no choice but to stray from you," he rushed over to her on the couch and fell to his knees, his face looked tortured and his eyes desperate, "Hermione I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. I could barely live with myself after that, I wasn't going to go after her on my own, but she knew I was there! Some how she expected us!"

Hermione finally looked over at him and saw the earnestness in his eyes. The shame of failing, his fear of facing her, of admitting he let her down, all these things he was finally able to tell her in person as his face burned red with emotion, it was extremely apparent he dreaded having to own up to how badly he didn't come through. He so obviously felt like a failure for letting Bellatrix catch him.

Tides of emotions rushed through her. Like a flood gate being opened, all her hate and pain dropped out of her, and was replaced with disbelief and overwhelming grief. Was she relieved her best friend hadn't intentionally betrayed her after all? Or angry that she WASTED so much time thinking that he did to the point of breakdown? All of it seemed so pointless now, everything she thought and felt… for nothing. Harry, all this time, hating himself while she wanted to destroy him!

"I was gravely worried about him," said Dumbledore quietly, "How much he blamed himself…"

Hermione ached all over. It was all so much. How could she be mad at him when it was Bellatrix who found Harry! A lump formed in her throat that she could not swallow, her eyes burned with forming tears, "But how did she know where to find you?" asked Hermione in confusion.

This time is was Ginny, most randomly and unexpectedly, who broke down into loud, violent sobs.

"Shhhh," said Dumbledore softly, "Now Ginerva, remember what we talked about. We agreed you'd feel a lot better once you finally told them yourself…"

Ginny gulped. Dumbledore's awkward words had caught Hermione, Harry and Ron's ears. She now had the attention of the entire room.

"One night…" she started slowly, "Just after… things happened between us… I went out walking. I ended up at this strange bar… I betrayed my oath…" she had started crying again, "… I gave secret Order information away. I was such an idiot, saying Harry's name left and right. Like it takes people long to figure out when the famous Harry Potter is being talked about!"

She was sobbing now, terribly distressed, "I think it was Rabastan Lestrange. I have no doubt it was him who warned Bellatrix and the others that we were in the Order. That we were working on stopping them…" she could talk no longer, but only rest her face in her hands and hide as she cried.

"It's my fault," she muttered against her palms, "Harry not being there… Bellatrix going after him… I'm so sorry, both of you, it's entirely my fault."

Harry just looked at Ginny. She had been witness to his torment all this time…. His lips were quivering and he was softly shaking his head. Then Hermione and Harry had exchanged glances.

They didn't want to be mad at her, they loved her! It's just… what she did… it had caused them so much pain… so much trouble… so much anguish. It turned their whole lives upside down.

"Ginny, don't cry," said Ron unexpectedly.

Harry and Hermione turned to look at him now.

"Herm and Harry forgive you, don't you, you guys?"

Ginny looked up hopefully, her face red and streaked with tears. But Hermione and Harry just looked at Ron reproachfully. He was being a bit presumptuous in their opinions. They had just barely wrapped their minds around this new news, how did he know they were ready for such a prominent move?

Ron scowled at them. "Can't you see you're all even now?" he shouted, "You've all broken each other's hearts. Harry would have never left you Hermione if Bellatrix had never shown up, and Bellatrix would've never had shown up if Ginny had never gone to that bar. But can you two fucking blame her for going? You're the ones that drove her there."

Hermione looked over at Ginny. The sadness in her eyes caused Hermione to instantly cry. Harry himself was shaking a bit, trying to stop his eyes from filling, but he couldn't stop a tear from sliding down his cheek. He then hid his face in his hands as well.

Ron cleared his throat, giving his friends time to get over their emotional moments. He went up to wipe his eye…

"Bloody hell," he quipped, "Why am I crying?"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. The two boys looked at each other, there was no need for "I won't tell anyone you were crying if you don't tell anyone I was crying," because their eyes said it all

Next the four just seemed to naturally come into the couch and collapse on one another in a tight hug. Because Voldemort was dead damn it, and they were all still alive, despite all that they had done to each other. They were guaranteed the rest of their lives to figure all of the side rubbish out, now that he-who-must-not-be-named could no longer threaten their existence ever again.

After Dumbledore let the hug go on for what seemed like forever before he finally reminded them they should be flooing to London, there was a gigantic, historical, recording breaking parade in the street they were missing.

"No," said Harry, "This is where we learned to fight, this is where we're going to celebrate."

Dumbledore smiled and his eyes twinkled again. "Well I suppose Alumni are always welcome at the feasts, there is plenty after all."

"Good," said Ron, "Because Harry and I have already pal-parchmented practically everyone we could think of."

"And surely they'll be inviting others," said Harry grinning.

"You two are more trouble than your father and his friends ever were! Now, get out of my office before I actually have to do something authority-figure like!"

They were laughing as they got up to leave, but Hermione wasn't quite satisfied yet.

"Of course I don't mean you Miss Granger, if you need a moment," he added.

How did he know these things!

"I'll be down soon," she told them, and she was telling the truth, a feast with old classmates sounded like a dream come true right then, but she had one more question.

They left her as she closed the door and turned to face Dumbledore, he looked as if he had been expecting it all along.

"Headmaster, sir," she began, "How is Nicholas Greenly?"

"Oh, well as you can imagine feeling quite violated about how he was to commit a terrible indecency to the object he had sworn his life to protect, but I imagine he is dealing with it as healthily as possible."  
"Oh," she said, "Well… thank you for letting us stay for the feast," and she turned to leave.

"You don't really think I'm going to let you walk out of here before I hear what you really wanted to ask me do you Miss Granger?"

Hermione turned back and looked at Dumbledore, sitting at his desk with an expression of patience.

Hermione sighed. "It's just… I would've never paid him a second thought if it wasn't for these dreams I've been having. And even now, with Voldemort gone, it's like I know I'll still have these horrible nightmares, I keep reliving the party in my dreams, even last night while I was out…Voldemort could've been dead for hours by then, and Lucius and Brusto had been long stopped, but I was still haunted by them! It's like peace is impossible! I'm not a seer sir, how did I keep seeing such helpful things? And will these night plagues go away?"

"When exactly do you fill the most unrest Miss Granger?"

Hermione thought for a long while… "Right when he dies," she finally answered. "Right when I relive that exact moment."

Dumbledore need not ask if she was talking about Sturgis Podmore. "Witnessing a death can be a traumatic thing for anyone…especially a murder… I don't suppose you knew that the night he died, I was considering excommunicating him from the Order for treason?"

"What?" asked Hermione, deeply shocked.

"Yes…" said Dumbledore gravely, "Slowly it dawned on me that all our best leads pertaining to who was in on the counterfeiting and the locations as to where to apprehend them, such as Brusto's party, were all coming from Sturgis.'

Hermione listened intently, not wanting to miss a word of what Dumbledore was trying to tell her.

"He claimed he got them from spying but it soon became obvious that it was from an inside source. He believed his brother-in-law Clyde Baggins to be fully in on the whole scheme, not knowing it was the Imperious curse. I know now that he felt he could not tell me who it was who was going to hoodwink the Trove of Smoke, that he would be betraying his family. I told him, even though he was giving us great information, if he did not tell us the source he would be denounced from the Order of the Phoenix. I had no choice; it's just the way it goes."

Hermione nodded gravely.

"But…" he went on, "As you can guess the guilt got to him. I believe he showed up that night to confess. To warn us. We never would have had to go to that party if we had only known it was Clyde Baggins the fake votes would be passed on to. You do understand we needed all those fake votes because they were comprised of all the Death Eaters and members of the Magical Mafia names? They were a group so large Lucius would've swung the majority had they ever been submitted…"

"Yes," said Hermione, she guessed that's why Dumbledore wanted the papers so much. It exposed everyone in on it. Everyone.

"Anyways… I digress… Sturgis must have admired you Hermione."

"Excuse me?" she said.

"He couldn't risk your death. You were the first person he went to," Dumbledore's expression grew a bit more somber, "But alas, things did not end well for him. He knew he would not live to tell us the truth, to ask us for redemption. He entrusted you with one of the most powerful bonds two wizards can make to help him with his unfinished business."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Tell me, did he write something in your hand before he died?"

"Yes."

"And he shook it?"

"Yes," she said again.

"Did he tell you _In__ noctum tuas commendo spiritum meum_?"  
"Yes," said Hermione, sitting up most rigidly.

Dumbledore nodded to himself. "That means "In the night I entrust you with my spirit," said Dumbledore, "A very ancient spell…"

He sat quietly as he watched Hermione think about what he had told her.

"He could tell me things in my dreams?" she finally asked.

"You really are the brightest witch of your age," said Dumbledore, "Indeed that is so. He knew he could not leave our plane of existence without first ensuring he fixed the damage he had caused."

"But I had no I idea such a spell existed!"

"True as that may be, you were still open to it, that's all that matters."

"But…"

"As helpful as the spell is, the dead can only do so much," said Dumbledore, knowing she was going to ask why he took so long to reveal to her all she needed to know, "He could only remind you of what you already knew, he couldn't tell you anything new. The dead just can not. Instead he showed you the truth over and over again until you just knew."

Hermione sat silently for a moment. "Well is he gone now?"

"Obviously not," said Dumbledore, "You said so yourself you had nightmares last night, even with Voldemort defeated."

"Well what do I do?"

"Why don't you ask him?" said Dumbledore, as if it were obvious.

Hermione looked skeptical at first but then trusted her headmaster's strange ways. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. It took her awhile to relax and start to day dream. Suddenly a smile grew across her face.

"He wants me to tell him who to dance with, you or Lucius."

Dumbledore smiled, "I can't say much for Lucius, but I know I enjoy a good leg shake."

Hermione giggled.

"I think if we've learned anything it's that we all make poor choices for what we believe to be the best reasons. I never would ask him to pay for his mistakes with his life, but he did anyway. And he saved you for us. Does he know he is forgiven then?" asked Dumbledore.

Hermione closed her eyes again and was still for a long time. "He must," she finally said, "because he's gone." She opened her eyes; it felt very strange indeed to be completely alone again. She had forgotten what it felt like to be normal the spell had been on her so long.

Dumbledore smiled warmly.

They were silent. Hermione felt it was her cue to leave. But she didn't want to get up. She still felt perplexed. However, she felt she was consumed enough of Dumbledore's wisdom and guidance for the day, he was old after all, how mush of her pestering could he handle?

"Well, I guess I'll be goi-"

"Sit down Miss Granger," said Dumbledore firmly.

Hermione looked surprised.

"You think after all you've been through that a five minute conversation will put your whole heart and soul at ease?"

She couldn't reject Dumbledore's invitation. Hermione was unexplainably emotional. She wanted to cry again. Why though? She was free, Voldemort was gone and Harry was by her side again…

But if they were fine, then why did she dread going down to the feast to see him? He would no doubt ask her about Draco.

….Draco…

Surely she couldn't talk to Dumbledore about him… No, she would have to tell him she was fine, that she was perfectly happy and content with how things had turned out.

But as she tried to convince herself, happiness and contentment were the opposite of the feelings that suddenly brewed within her. Hostility and anger were there. She was surprised, but it was directed to the very man who was trying to ensure she was okay at that very moment.

"Why?" she suddenly snarled, "Why did you leave me in that prison?"

Dumbledore looked at her and softly shook his head, "I admire you Hermione, and you know that. I love your sharp mind," he said, "But I believe in honesty, and I will not go without telling you that in this particular instance your perspective is clouded by pain and suffering."

Hermione cocked her head to the side, still quite upset and dissatisfied with the answer she didn't seem to fully understand.

"To put it quite bluntly you were just being stupid," said Dumbledore, surprising Hermione quite greatly, "That prison was miserable and it made your thoughts miserable too. It's what being near Voldemort does to people. It completely clouded your mind, all you could focus on was you and your situation and your pain. It's not that you're selfish, it would have happened to anyone. Otherwise you would've known that even if we knew where they had taken you, which we didn't, we could not try and get you. They would've killed you before we even got there. It was not easy for us to sit here knowing what you must be going through and not being able to do anything about it, but we had to. If we ever wanted to see you alive again we had to."

Hermione felt like the biggest fool. She could not believe herself. The logic she failed so miserably to see was currently slicing through her abdomen with its blatant sharpness. They must have known they would probably never see her again. Her being released, although it happened, was so incredibly unlikely, and yet they never gave up hope of seeing her alive again one day anyway.

Wait.

She WAS released. Why hadn't they gone after her then?

"So then why did all your concern for me suddenly disappear once I was at Malfoy Manor then? Don't tell me you couldn't have gotten me from there."

"Didn't Ms. Tonks explain to you the great opportunity that presented itself for us? I mean, I think it's quite evident that you staying there was the right decision. We'd have Lucius Malfoy as Minister right now if you hadn't."

"I think that's extremely debatable!" snapped Hermione, "Lucius may have never even gotten nominated if you hadn't let him have me, if you hadn't let him use me to gain public approval."

Dumbledore thought for a moment, "Well, yes," he said, "I suppose that is true, but if we hadn't then we'd be exactly where we were years ago. Oppressed and terrified of his threat. Granted we did take a risk letting you be apart of his plan, but can you honestly say it wasn't worth it? Because Lucius used you of all people to advance himself we were finally able to draw him out and defeat him!"

Hermione sighed and shook her head. He just didn't get it. They all made her feel so worthless, like her well-being and life didn't matter, that they could subject her to any danger or torture to get what they wanted.

"Miss Granger," he interrupted her thoughts, "I don't think you quite understand how much we value you. You were the only one among us strong enough to handle such a burden."

'Crazy old coot... always knowing just what to say…' she thought glumly… "I just…" she started, "I just wish you would've found some way to tell me all this before. I wanted to end my life Headmaster. Do you realize that! I would've rather killed myself than allow Voldemort to use me! And that's a horrible, horrible way to feel. No one should have to feel that way. I'm just so mad at you, if you cared about me at all, why would you leave me there to feel so alone? So unsafe?"

"Unsafe?" said Dumbledore, sounding surprised.

"Yes," said Hermione insistently.

"I did no such thing," said Dumbledore.

"Excuse me?" said Hermione, baffled he would try to deny it.

"And frankly, Miss Granger, I'm offended," he went on, "You've insulted one of the most accountable people I know, the one person who put my mind at ease during this whole terrible ordeal. I could sleep at night knowing you were there with young Mr. Malfoy."

Hermione couldn't look more surprised if Dumbledore told her she was his mother.

"Draco?" she asked.

"Indeed," said Dumbledore.

"Draco was in on it the whole time?" she asked.

"Oh, no, no, no," he said, "I couldn't risk that."

"Then how do you know he wouldn't let anything bad happen to me?"

"You think you and your friends are the only ones who come to see me?" he said, "Not the case at all I dare say. I even go as far to say that I know Mr. Malfoy quite well, and that I am honored by the acquaintance. He was one of my top students after all. Draco and I have had many long and interesting conversations over the years, about the sorting hat, his father… the usual teenaged trials. He is very unique, but he is a good person. There are so many things I admire about him. You think I'd let any one I knew to be harmful roam my halls?"

Hermione could only laugh at the audacity. "Werewolves, giants, sons of Death Eaters… You really will give anyone a chance."

"And what's so wrong with that? Sometimes that's all people need."

Hermione sat silently, thinking that was the greatest thing she had heard in a very long time. Dumbledore however was looking at a strange gadget over on his shelf.

"Ah," he said, "Your parents are just now arriving here from China."

"China?" questioned Hermione.

"Yes," said Dumbledore, "That's where they said they wanted to hide. We figured Lucius would try to use them to scare you, but we knew you were much too clever to believe that. Of course we relocated them right away after they told me Lucius invaded your home; no one would ever find them in China."

Hermione laughed nervously, "Yeah, of course I figured that…"

Hermione could jinx herself, how could she ever doubt that Dumbledore had been doing all that he possibly could for her?

… … …

Hermione slept from after the feast till noon the next day. And no one could blame her. Finding out about Voldemort, his followers, Harry, Ginny, Draco and reuniting with her parents all in one hour would wreck anyone, least of all someone just out of unconsciousness and still determined to participate in the entire feast, including seeing all of the Order members, who would not stop hugging her and tussling her hair.

Uncontainable relief and joy rushed through her body so severely she could barely form straight sentences. Her Mother demanded she go up and rest there at the castle while they returned back to their muggle home, hoping to dust out the cobwebs and maybe go to the market to restock the fridge. They also insisted Hermione stay another day at Hogwarts to be with her friends and relax. They would meet up with her the next evening, when Fudge was to present her with a medal of honor at an official banquet to commemorate the community's historical victory over Voldemort.

At first Hermione did not want to get up, and was even a little bitter she was robbed of her opportunity to be Head Girl, as Ginny's bed was remarkably comfortable. She wondered why she was still so… tired. Her dreams weren't bad, they just weren't pleasant either. In fact, they were just total blackness, which she only seemed to fall through, creating a very uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. A feeling of total insecurity. She was beginning to think uneasy resting would be apart of the rest of her life.

'Merlin,' she thought, 'This is the 1st time I've slept in a bed that felt remotely like home in almost a year… and I still can't have good dreams!'

Finally, thinking of her friends and wanting to see them, she climbed out of the Head Girl's bed.

"Harry?" she asked as she descended down the stairs to the Head commons. He was at the window, looking to the quidditch pitch. He turned to look at her.

"Good morning," he said.

"Don't try to make me feel less lazy," she told him, "I'm aware it's well into the afternoon."

The two smiled at each other and then were quiet for sometime.

Harry turned back to the window.

"The stupid git saved Ron's life."

"What?" asked Hermione.

"Malfoy," he said.

"Oh…" replied Hermione, not sure what to say next. She couldn't tell if he suddenly seemed troubled by the thought of the battle and how close they all were to death, or if it was Draco.

"It should've been me who had his back," he said hesitantly, "Ron was going to look around a corner and I was the one who told him I'd cover him…. But I got crucioed."

Hermione's eyebrows rose in automatic concern, but Harry just continued with his story, slightly shaking his head.

"Malfoy had warned us they'd run out to the middle but we didn't believe him. We didn't believe anyone would ever really kamikaze for Voldemort…but he knew what he was talking about. It was Bellatrix Lestrange…" he trailed off momentarily, as if the thought of Bellatrix was so putrid to him he needed time to recollect himself, "That bitch, she's come between me and my loved ones far to many times… Anyways," he sort of smirked, "I really did go after her that time. Killed her too," the triumph in his voice soon dropped though, and he appeared to muster up his next words, as if they were difficult for him to say, "But I got hit, got knocked ass backwards and it was Malfoy who blocked for Ron." Harry almost seemed mad that Ron had been saved. But surely that wasn't it; it was who had saved him that made him so mad.

"I hated the idea of owing him anything," Harry spat quickly and angrily before Hermione could even say anything, "So I asked him, I said "what do you want?" And he said, "Tell Hermione to come see me." So I am," he said briskly.

He turned and looked at her again, "Go see him Hermione. There, I did it. Now he and I are square. I don't owe him a thing."

Hermione just nodded, she understood his attitude now.

"Harry…?" she asked softly after another silence had passed.

"Yes?" he asked, gazing out the window again.

"Could you have done it without his help?"

Harry sighed deeply. "No," he admitted.

Hermione stepped closer to him. She put her a hand his back and lightly rubbed his shoulders. He let his head rest against the glass.

"Why couldn't you love me?" he whispered.

Hermione gave a little laugh. "You idiot," she said, "I do love you."

Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance, "Why couldn't you love me in that way?"

Hermione put her face real close to his, her expression serious. Harry knew she wanted him to look at her. He turned his head a bit on the glass.

"Because you couldn't love me in that way either," she said. "Voldemort is gone now Harry and you don't need me anymore."

Silence came between the two yet again. Hermione began to wonder if he really was even looking at anything out that window. But she didn't mind if they didn't feel the need to talk. Eventually he turned to her and kissed her long and soft on the forehead.

"Let's get Ron and go see Hagrid," he spoke finally.

… … …

Hermione always felt awkward sitting up front at a table on a stage. This time was no different really, except she had Ron and Harry right next to her, which was nice. But most splendid of all was that she could see Sarah and Landon beaming at her from one of the front tables just beyond the stafe. She could see Oliver, and Ernie, Cho, Hannah, even Luna, everyone! All her friends who never believed she wanted to be at Malfoy Manor, the ones who dared risk everything by trying to see her. She couldn't wait to see them all after the ceremony.

But soon the lights went down over the fancy ballroom. Next was a series of the most amazing spectacles she had ever seen. She watched each nation perform an act of celebration, she saw again the leprechauns and the veelas, but she also saw the only tame Dragon species in the world dance, glittering its beautiful colors all over the room as its 90 foot body laced itself through the round dining tables, compliments of China to mark this glorious event.

The Giants brought rare and precious stones, ripped by hand out of the mountainside, the warlocks performed a demonstration of their ancient fencing, the rooms ears were graced with the incredibly intoxicating voice of Australians most prized witch diva, the endangered and spectacular magic hibiscus flower of Tahiti was presented to everyone in attendance as a gift, and the Americans promised the largest and most fantastic wizarding fireworks display in history after the dinner and award ceremony, just to name a few….

Her favorite though, was when she saw the Fairies from Whales light the candles on the tables. Only few could see fairies, as they are invisible to some. All the rest saw were the candles miraculously coming to life with flame, wondering what one out of thirty people of the other guests were gasping and pointing at.

Ron leaned forward in his chair, squinting, "What?" he whispered brashly.

"Shhhh…" said Hermione, very softly. She could see them.

She didn't even mind that Ron huffed back into his chair in confused annoyance. The very sight of them was so calming and peaceful. They were tiny and delicate, their wings paper thin and their skin had a glow like a full silver moon, shimmery dust sprinkled the room as they gracefully moved. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

They were the last of the displays, since they caused the room to grow quiet and thoughtful. A cue Fudge took to rise and give a speech. He talked about…. something, to be honest Hermione wasn't even paying attention.

What justice could words do? No one would ever be able to express the pure unbridled joy of having Voldemort gone. The cry of relief from every aching muscle in the human body knowing it would never have to fear another potential Death Eater lurking behind any given corner. The swell of hope and peace in ones chest knowing no one will ever again try and annihilate people for simply being who they were, impressionable minds would never be polluted with such discriminating and racist filth again, no one's greed for power would ever go so far. Families would never be broken by all the harm he was capable of causing, never again would a child know the loss of their parents because of him.

'Fudge shouldn't try and say it,' Hermione thought, 'We should all just stand up and hug the person next to us.'

Quite bluntly, she wanted to hug Draco about it. For this she felt ashamed and didn't know why.

There was a prickling in the back of her head that caused her to furrow her brow. With a bit of concentration she realized there was a very, very faint knocking in her head.

She opened the door, it was Ron. He, unlike his counterpart, at least had the decency to knock.

"Are you okay," she could barely make out his voice it was so soft. Harry had been teaching them how to occlument, but they weren't very good at it yet.

"Sure I am," she answered, trying to get him to feel her smile.

"You still look a little off,' said Ron's quiet voice, always straight to the point.

"I'm happy Ron I swear it!" she insisted.

She could feel his glower.

"Well…" she thought, accepting that he'd only be satisfied with a real answer, "I suppose I was just so used to feeling hopeless and depressed all the time that I'm not quite used to not having a reason to feel that way anymore… It will just take me some time Ron, don't worry."

He looked over to her and gave her a half smile. He patted her hand under the table.

"…lease stand!" said Fudge.

Hermione was startled by Ron and Harry quickly taking to their feet. They looked at her intently, gesturing for her to rise as well.

She rose to the sound of boisterous applause. They filed out from behind their table and up front to the podium where Fudge stood. Soon the line consisted of the majority of Order Members. She couldn't help but notice Draco's absence from the event. She wondered why that was while at the same time trying to place the feeling she had in reaction to it.

Perhaps he couldn't show his face, since his own father had been so heavily involved. But Hermione was of the opinion that made him even more worthy of recognition, since escaping such strong opposing influences when one was so heavily embedded in them was quite more challenging compared to what some others had contributed… and it made her quite angry with Fudge and the other decision makers… but if those were to be the conditions then surely Sarah and Landon Malfoy would have to be up there too. But she knew from owling Sarah that Landon just felt that was in bad taste since he was going along with Lucius's demands until the very end…

Each bowed as their name and contribution was read, and a large heavy medallion was placed around their neck by Fudge. George had just exited the stage as Ron's name was called.

"… Not only for bravely fighting until the very, very end, but fighting since he was a young man. Since he was a little 1st year at Hogwarts… he never gave up" said Fudge.

"To Hermione Granger," said Fudge, "For her endurance and sacrifice to us all!"

Hermione's inside swelled as people cheered for her, the whistles and claps so gratifying.

"To Harry Potter!" he cried, applause and cheers erupted but immediately died down to hear what Fudge had to say, "For being the Boy Who Lived Again, fulfilling a prophecy to benefit the entire world."

The very structure of the building shook the audience made such a noise. They gave him a standing ovation that went on forever, or so it seemed.

So long it was truly lucky the screams of a woman could be heard towards the end, just as the cheers finally started to die.

It was one of the tables on the front row. First the attention of those immediately around her was drawn to her shattering wine glass on the floor. But soon others turned their heads in her direction as well when they heard her shrill cry of "Pa-Pa-PA-POLYJUICE POTION!"

Four figures stood up, but their clothes and faces melted away revealing the long dark cloaks they were truly wearing. They pulled out their wands in way Hermione could help but associate with bank robbers and how they'd whip out machine guns in muggles action films.

Meanwhile, as they stupefied and petrified as many oncoming standard guards and bystanders as they could and many were screaming, rising up and trying to dash for the exits, flipping over tables and tripping all over each other, Hermione barely managed to figure out what was going on.

It struck her as odd that they must have known they would be extremely out numbered yet they still weren't trying to kill as many people as they possible could in their small frame of time before they were inevitably taken out, but instead just trying to open up a window of people in order to have a clear path to…

She had just pushed Ron's head down, aggressively implying he should take cover under the table as their goal to get to the stage became obvious… But just at that moment one of the invaders jumped up on the table and pointed his wand square at Hermione.

He pulled down his hood.

"MUDTHUD BITCH!" the enraged face of Blaise Zabini snarled, as he pointed his long black wand right at her, his lisp a permanent mark thanks to Hermione, "I will avenge my mather!"

But his speech impediment was no laughing matter at the particular moment. Again, Hermione looked down the length of a wand and stared certain death in the face, and again, as improbable as could be imagined, she was saved.

Figures in navy blue cloaks had come swinging down on wires from the tall, tall ceiling. A particularly fierce and agile individual landed expertly onto the table of Blaise, right after kicking him 10 feet off with the full force of two feet of course.

None of the identities of the men in blue could be determined as their hoods were just as concealing as the Death Eater's, but it was clear they were the best in special tactics, dangerous situations and wrangling, a special force that had been kept hidden and reserved just in case of an attempted incident like what had just happened. The rest of them pursued the three remaining Death Eaters till they were captured.

Blaise flew in the air and crashed into the stage and when the lone fighter jumped down to the floor to close in on him. Hermione and those left up on the stage had a perfect view of what would transpire down below them.

Hermione couldn't yell out in time that Blaise, who had been rising up with his back towards the special agent in blue, had his wand at the ready.

The pursuer was quick, but not quick enough, when Blaise's jinx nailed him right in the right shoulder, blowing a whole in his robes, the edges black from searing.

He roared with anger and pain, only to quite quickly and professionally suppress the pain and regain focus and composure.

"STUPIFY!" he demanded.

Blaise was knocked once again into the stage and fell flat, immobilized from the pain, onto the floor.

The man hovered over him with what appeared to be a very special gratification in his accomplishment, "Azkaban it too good for you," he spat, "…but never fear, it won't house you for long. There is a kiss in you near future."

Blaise started to weep hysterically, curling up into the fetal position and rocking gently. The others, who had bounded Zan Zabini, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, the remaining fugitive Death Eaters who weren't present at the battle to be killed or surrender, quite efficiently, came to gather their last.

The regular guards were busy trying to restore order to the terrified ballroom of people, but they were quieted and still as Fudge took to the microphone one last time.

"Wizards and witches," he said, "WE'VE GOT THE LAST OF THEM!"

The wild cheers and unstoppable, thunderous applause nearly did bring the house down.


	29. When Malfoys marry Mudbloods

A/N: Man. Last chapters are always so hard Not only is there TONS of pressure to make it good and satisfying, it's hard to write well because if you're a lame little wussy girl like me, you get emotional as these things come to an end and it gets hard to concentrate.

This was my first attempt at a mystery type story and while I enjoy and am proud of most parts there are definitely areas where I think it is lacking in coherency and quality. But that is all a part of the learning process I suppose, and I thank ALL who took the time to read it and help with it and review it from the bottom of my heart. You guided me and helped keep me wanting to write and that is very special to me. You're the coolest strangers I've ever been associated with hehe. Thank you again, really.

Of course, as always, I have one more review I'd like you ask all of you for. Hopefully, now that the story is over you can tell me how you feel about it as a whole, looking back to the entire thing. Now that it's complete perhaps the strengths and weaknesses will be really easy to define, because I'd really like to know and learn from y'all. I do hope you like the ending. It is so hard to conclude 27 chapters of rolling momentum, but I tired my best.

Thank you and god bless!

… … …

Hermione was more fidgety and nervous than the first time she rode in a wizard's carriage to Malfoy Manor. Weeks had passed since the awards ceremony... After so many owls, finally she agreed to go see Sarah… and Draco, like Harry had begrudgingly requested.

Many had been made famous for their involvement in the infamous Dark Lord's final downfall, and surely publicity would be something that would follow them through the rest of their lives, as it had her scarred friend, but Hermione felt confident she wasn't alone in being glad the hysteria had died down a little since it had first happened.

Her friends believed her when she said she avoided going out much because of the crowds, but secretly she knew it was because she still didn't feel quite right with herself. A feeling that seemed only to intensify as Draco's mansion came into view.

Yet again, she was under a lot of stress. Being pessimistic and insecure had developed into a habit after having so many good reasons to be depressed, and like all habits this one was hard to break. She was very hasty to assume she and Draco were over. She was even quicker to assume that was what Draco would want.

There was the only explanation she could think of to what had happened, and it was the answer she'd cling to desperately.

'What happened between Draco and I was a result of traumatic events...' she told herself, 'It's human nature to turn to another in times of peril…' she continued, trying to sound convincing… 'I shouldn't be ashamed, I did nothing wrong. No one knows what it's like to be in that situation, their judgments should mean nothing to me!'

'But,' she inevitably went on, 'It's in the past. All of it. Me and Draco? How preposterous! Surely he'll agree, neither of us intend to try and continue things the way they were! It's…embarrassing…'

Honestly, how could she, they, ever be as they were? Their marriage was forced. That secret fact alone was their only saving grace. It had been so humiliating when they both found out; each completely mortified at the thought of the public imaging them coming together. To have people think she was infatuated with that smug, cocky, asshole. And she was certain he felt equally the same, plagued by having his reputation stained as much as his proud family history would have to be after dirtying it up with a muggle witch. Granted, he was now famous for his strong opposition against muggle genocide, but never was it ever conveyed that he supported mixing bloodlines!

Like the saving grace she already thought it was, she assumed they both considered themselves lucky to have their names cleared when Lucius's evil scheme was foiled and their marriage was exposed as the sham that it was.

The public wouldn't be able to handle them coming out as a "couple" again, if anything they'd over react and think it was another Voldemort rising to power scheme.

But who says they'd be so public about it again? There would be no Lucius to dangle them in front of reporters or photographers or drag them to events where they could be witnessed as together.

And since when did she EVER care what other people thought anyway?

"Hermione!' she thought quickly and firmly, 'enough if the "buts" and "since whens"!'

Typical to her analytical nature… this was not the 1st time she had contemplations such as these. She'd never admit it, but she had thought about Draco and their situation numerous times since they had parted ways…

She knew she had been through a great deal. So it only seemed wise to avoid more hardships. And she refused to leave herself open to rejection from the likes of Draco Malfoy. But it shouldn't even be an issue. She was utterly, utterly, convinced that she and Draco would no doubt be on the same page regarding all this business.

Which is why she had their divorce papers stored in her wand. Dumbledore had informed her that her marriage was completely legitimate. She had said "I do," after all. Unless they were going to stay legally married, she and Draco would both need to sign.

And yet while her decision was so final, she could not stifle some small pleading voice within her.

The carriage stopped. Hermione took a deep breath.

It was very strange indeed approaching the tall, grand front doors on her own free will.

Sarah answered the door and immediately wrapped her arms around her!

"I saw you at the ceremony!" she said, "Such a pity all were evacuated before we could speak! Your medal was absolutely stunning!"

Hermione smiled, "Oh thanks, and it's dreadfully heavy in real life though."

They stepped into the foyer.

"You'll have to excuse any mess you might see," said Sarah, beaming, "Dad and I are doing a bit of redecorating."

"You'll still be living here then?"

"Yes!" beamed Sarah, "Lucius's will passes it to his oldest living family member. We have the whole thing now!"

Hermione smiled broadly, terribly pleased that there was enough justice in the world that a servant girl robbed of her Father would eventually receive a beautiful place to live, together.

"I should warn you though," she went on, "Narcissa is back from St. Mungo's,"

Hermione nodded gravely, she had heard about Narcissa's breakdown.

"We're letting her stay though," said Sarah, "All she wants is one floor on the east wing."

"Really?" said Hermione, surprised.

"Yes well who are we to turn away family? Besides, we did it mostly for poor Draco."

Sarah saw Hermione's face change to discomfort.

"We can catch up later you know," said Sarah with quite a mysterious smirk.

Hermione looked at her with confusion.

"Dad says the house is ours only until he wants it, but he suspects that won't be for a long while. It was just by luck I saw him heading out to the grounds just a little bit ago. He is rarely here at all actually"

Hermione took this as an obvious sign to go and deal with him first. Sarah must have known Hermione's mind was otherwise consumed by their unfinished business, and it was pointless to try and catch up with her when her mind would be understandably no where near any present conversation Sarah might have to offer. Hermione nodded hesitantly but politely to Sarah and she moved back to allow her to go through the house and out the back.

… … …

Draco could hear the hooves a quarter mile away. Granted he did cheat a bit when Midnight and Noon both stopped dead in their duty of aimlessly running and sniffing to look over their shoulders.

He smirked when he saw the smoky grey stallion gracefully gallop up to the edge of the bluff and skid to a purposeful stop.

Hermione hopped down from off Mystery's back.

"Don't make it easy to find yourself do you?" she asked as she hesitantly approached him, being in that particular location again, mainly the edge, made her a bit shaky. He was looking out over the creek below, his back to her

"Looks like you did alright," he said as he turned, "…Merlin, you look like hell."

Hermione scowled and looked down at her feet. Slytherin prick. Of course he was going to make anything as difficult as possible.

She felt his index finger curl under her chin and lift her face to meet each other's eyes, "Your robes are in perfect and professional order of course, and you look pathetically well groomed," he added, playfully tugging at a lock of curl, "but even you can't hide the bags under your eyes."

She wanted his powerful stare to be full of concern, but she could not be sure that was what he was giving her. He really did have to make everything so difficult. "I haven't been sleeping well," she said.

Draco scoffed, "Of course you aren't, it's always something with you isn't it? Imprisoned, held hostage, a spy, severe insomniac…" he jested.

She laughed lightly, wanting his jokes to be sweet and just for her, but she couldn't tell if that was the case or if he was just an ass. She was beginning to shake, she hated all this uncertainty. "Harry told me to come," she told him.

Draco nodded.

"… Like I wouldn't anyway…"

Draco's heart fluttered.

"I want my CD's back."

Draco laughed, "Right then, to the house I suppose?"

The two walked down the long corridors in silence. Hermione just looked around. The house was truly beautiful… oddly enough she would miss it.

He opened the door for her. It was quite warm in the room, the fire was going, the elves had been in to tidy up and even the bed had been turned down with one of the blankets pulled back. Hermione was instantly reminded of their honeymoon suite and how they returned each night to a dramatically welcoming room, where one wanted to crawl right into the bed and not leave for three solid days.

Draco looked at her with an expression she would never recognize as hopeful.

'She's being so daft…' he thought miserably, never one good at sentiments. Giving her the Mountain Dew had been so awkward from him after all. He sighed as he gestured to the suitcase and trunk he had gotten out for her, letting her get down to her business.

He decided he would not be the gentleman and help her, instead he removed his robe, it was too hot for him, but he knew that ever since she had gotten out of her cold hard prison cell she much appreciated the roar of a fire.

"Have at it then," he said, trying to make his sneer subtle.

Hermione tried to smirk at him as efficiently as he could bloody smirk at her but she failed when she noticed the red skin poking out from beneath his collar.

After all her self-convincing that she didn't give half a bullocks about him she immediately made one exception… He was a national hero after all, and had played a role in the safe return of all her friends, surely it was ok to be somewhat concerned for his platonic wellbeing, "What's that?" she asked in slight horror.

Before he could stop her she had tugged aside the shoulder of his shirt to reveal a nasty burn.

Her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Taking out assholes has its drawbacks," he said.

Blaise.

Hermione looked up at him in surprise. But that soon transcended in to feeling very foolish. Of course Dumbledore would have a reserve of his very best wizards and of course Draco would be among them! The only ones with the power, the capability, the strength and Dumbledore's trust to be saved for such an important purpose. For no other reason would he allow an awards ceremony to go on without absolutely insisting Draco be invited. And Draco chose to protect those receiving an award over receiving an award himself…

But just the mere thought of Blaise and what he tried to do to her made her shake with anger. And the fact that he was so deep in Death Eating rubbish that he'd lead a crusade to avenge that monster didn't help soothe her nerves very much either. But something did calm her, and that was the fact that he was gone, that she was forever safe from the likes of men like Blaise. Blaise and Lucius and Lord Voldemort. And she was bestowed that protection from the man in front of her…

She reached out to gently stroke and sooth his wound.

"But it was definitely worth it," he whispered.

"You were invited then," she half asked.

"V.I.P." he bragged.

Hermione smiled weakly at him,

Self doubt rushed up on her. She half turned around to kneel at the trunk brought out for her, knowing she was expected to start loading her things into it, but she turned back slightly… Hermione couldn't take it anymore, was he being cute with her or not? But she dared not ask. The only thing she could decipher from Draco's eyes for sure was sadness. Why did he look so, so sad?

"Draco…" she began, "About your father…"

"Save it," he interrupted, "I don't need a death talk."

Hermione pursed her lips together tightly.

"Thanks," he went on coolly, almost apologetically for the snap, "But I'm fine."

Hermione blinked at him with an expression torn between intent listening and skepticism.

Draco inhaled and pressed on, "I'm not ashamed to say I'm kind of glad. Yeah sure I'll have issues later and blah blah blah, but c'mon, he should be dead. We all know that. I'm sure everyone is wondering how much being raised by him will fuck me up in the end and there's no doubt you have something really wise and comforting to say about the subject, but for now I'd just like to enjoy my relief if that's alright."

"But Draco…" Hermione attempted softly, "suicide can be very…"

"I'm glad it was suicide," he barked.

Hermione snapped her eyes up at him in surprise.

He was softly shaking his head, "It's best that way. I mean… I didn't want to kill him… And I didn't want anyone else to have to…"

Hermione half smiled, then she nodded softly. She was close to understand why he would feel that way.

Draco's insides clenched for her and her sympathy. He did not want her to go back to packing up everything that made her apart of him and leave with it.

"But…" he added awkwardly, "I mean… I'm sure there will come a day when I'll wake up in a cold sweat, screaming, crying, wondering what it all means and shit… you know, him, life, existence, everything, all that good stuff…"

His hand went out to her shoulder and he licked his lips nervously.

"I don't suppose it would be too awful to have you and your gigantic brain around to help analyze it…"

Draco could see her expression was turning to letting him down.

He laughed awkwardly, "I mean you've got a lot of crap here, if you wanted to take your time, a few days even, to pack it up, I mean, that'd be alright with me. No rush or anything…"

Draco stood in agonizing silence as Hermione gave away nothing of her feelings towards his offer.

And that was because she was trying so hard to hide them.

It came down to this: He wanted her, she could tell. But how much and how honorably? That she did not know. If that was his offer, if that's all he had to say towards wanting to be with her, just a nonchalant "No rush or anything"…

And with her face still hard and tell-less, she did not get angry at his vagueness. How could she when she was being so indecisive herself? It would be so hypocritical, she had no idea what she truly felt for him as well.

'Draco… Y-y-you love him!' rang Harry's voice in her ear.'

'Damn it!' she cursed herself; trying to keep her facial muscles relaxed, but her emotions over powered her.

Finally Hermione's expression changed and Draco had some insight as to what was going inside her head… but it did not reassure him. She looked terribly distraught, possibly even angry…

Harry was right. But she was a fool for loving him. He could destroy her if he wanted to, just like he could at Hogwart's. How would she ever know whether or not she could trust him? He was Draco Malfoy! He tormented her for years! And their only pleasant experiences together were based on a situation that no longer existed. And if he wanted her… surely he would know she needed much more than smooth talk and piercing looks.

After a small swallow and regaining her plain pleasant face, "I don't think that's a very good idea."

Draco was much better at hiding his feelings than she was. While all she saw a cold and somewhat smug demeanor… his insides secretly and silently caved in on themselves. His heart pained to beat and every muscle in his body surged with tense anguish. But she would have no idea.

He merely snuffed and smirked, "Very well," he said with a shrug and looked away.

Hermione returned to slowly adding her things into the trunk, letting them fall randomly, her CD cases landing nosily onto one another. She didn't care. She had no desire to be organized, what did a tidy suitcase matter?

She moved slower and slower as the items to be packed grew fewer and fewer… this was it. She'd never be back again after this.

She slowly tucked away the last of her paint supplies and cautiously closed the lid of the trunk, being very methodical in ensuring it locked. Stalling… but acting like she wasn't.

Finally she stood back up, sighed and brushed off her hands as she turned to look at him.

He was leaning against the bed post watching her.

"Well," she said, turning away from him and starting to collect the handle of the trunk, preparing to lug it down the hall, "I guess that's all…"

"You can't leave…" said Draco's voice to her back.

Hermione slowly let the handle back down and turned to look at him, her heart in her throat.

"Crookshanks would throw a fit," he said.

"Oh…" she gasped quietly.

She was utterly relieved that Draco left the room. It gave her time to wipe away the bloody tears that were forming in her eyes. She cursed herself for wavering back and forth so much… first insisting they not be together… then so desperately hoping he would demand they would be! She had to quit this mind changing, it was wrecking her.

But her heart was so broken at the thought of what they had being nothing, that there was no security behind it. That fate had made it so clear that a Malfoy couldn't marry a Mudblood. That they would go on living the rest of their lives, look back and remember that their love had been nothing…

She had barely pulled it together when Draco reentered the room. He held Crookshanks by supporting his bottom with the crook of his arm. Crookshanks had his front paws up on Draco's shoulder, making absolutely no fuss.

Hermione scowled with jealousy. Her favorite thing about Crookshanks was that he seemed to hate everyone but her. Many others had tried to hold him, but he would have none of it. There were raw scratch marks on many of her friends to prove it.

But there he was, purring contently and resting assured as Draco transported him.

Crookshanks was much too masculine and self righteous to be caught dead cuddling with another male, but when Draco gestured to release him onto the bed he hopped off with grace and confidence and turned to Draco with an undeniable look of respect. He then walked across the bed spread with a stride of nobility, as if he was in the company of someone as amazing as he. A stride Hermione hadn't seen since he had taken so well with Sirius Black.

"I never really cared much for cats myself," said Draco, watching Crookshanks arrogantly start to groom his paw, "But that one there is alright with me."

He paid no mind to Hermione's glaring as he went on to say that Crookshanks had kept him so warm at night.

"It must be because he is so big and fluffy," said Draco, "I've got to have one, what breed is he?"

Finally Hermione had something to feel triumphant about after Draco moved in on her special relationship with her cat, "A very rare one indeed actually, and I dare say you won't find anything remotely like Crookshanks, I suspect he is partly Kneaz…"

Hermione stopped short in her sentence. There she was talking about her cat who detected and despised shady characters just as she, with her own two eyes, witnessed Crookshanks playfully lick Draco's arm as he went in to stroke his back. Draco smiled and Crookshanks purred loudly. Then he immediately looked dashingly around the room to ensure no one saw him in a moment of sensitivity.

Draco was trustworthy. There was no getting around it; Crookshanks was a fire alarm when it came to these things.

Draco turned to look at her only because she had trailed off.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked.

"Maybe," she tried to say confidently, "maybe," she tried again, desperate to get her voice above a whisper, "I could stay for a few more days…"

Lightning flashed in Draco's eyes and now it was Hermione left in a long silence of agonizing wonder.

"No," he said. He barked it quickly. His head whirled with what to say next, oblivious to Hermione's crumpling heart, "I think you were right, I don't think that's a very good idea after all."

Hermione closed her eyes tightly, trying to trap in the tears. But she knew perfectly well Draco would see them seep out.

"I mean what would the neighbor's think? _Me_ letting _you_ run me around like that, coming and going whenever you please. I will not be made a laughingstock. You're supposed to be my wife, damn it. Why, I should divorce you!"

Hermione looked up in surprise. He was joking around with her! At a time like this? There she was crying, obviously over him, and he still wanted to be flirty and charming!

"Well then why don't you?" she said back, the lack of humor in her voice was apparent, but Draco knew she was mocking a joke. She whipped out her wand and shot out the papers.

Draco took one look at them and his face grew serious, he thought he'd have at least one more time to be with her before they would think to go about the divorce, that he'd have one more time to try and convince her… or to at least otherwise make her doubt herself so much that she'd never actually be able to present the papers to him… but there was no avoiding it now. Of course Hermione would be on top of everything.

He might as well not play games; he might as well tell her exactly what he thought of those bloody papers and now, "Honestly Hermione? …Because I really don't want to."

"What?" she gasped.

"You heard me," he said, "I love you. I want to stay married to you. I don't want anyone else to ever have you and I want to impregnate you with lots of little Dracos and die with you holding my hand."

She didn't even bother holding back the tears in response to this. She was so terribly torn. Yes, he wanted her, but how could she stay with him?

"How?" she cried, "How could we be together? How would it ever work? I'm Hermione Granger! And you're Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin from Hogwarts. Snape's suck up, Umbridge's minion, Harry's enemy, a wanna-be Death Eater!

"WAS," shouted Draco.

Hermione took a step back in shock.

"I WAS in Slytherin, I WAS Snape's and Umbridge's favorite I USED to hate Harry and almost HAD to be a Death Eater. All I am now is me, Hermione."

Hermione sniffled, "That's quite a bit of change Draco. You expect me to believe, for you to even believe for that matter, that all that changed over night?"

Draco glared at her, "It didn't change over night," he barked, "It didn't even change of the course of you being here."

Hermione just stared desperately up at him, "When then?"

"When, after years and years of being asked, I finally had a good reason to help Dumbledore," said Draco firmly. "…When I had you."

He was right, he wasn't a wanna-be Death Eater. He was a hero in the final battle against Voldemort. He had helped Dumbledore when he needed him the most. He had changed. And if that could change then who knew what else could change. Because that's what happens when Malfoys marry Mudbloods, the whole world as everyone knows it comes undone, and everything changes.

She looked him in his icy eyes, watching them melt before her. He was melting with love and vulnerability and suspense… waiting desperately for any sign from her.

"Yes, we will fucking fight like cats and dogs," he said, "Yes, we will drive each other crazy, yes, we will cry and scream and throw things, but we'll laugh and play and kiss too. And we'll always end up together."

Hermione still said nothing. She was at a complete loss, learning that after all of Dumbledore's attempts, it was HER who finally inspired Draco enough to cut his horrible ties and fight against them. Voldemort's defeat… It was her that finally made it worth it him to risk EVERYTHING he had, even his life. It was her who motivated him to challenge his own Father, to fight against the destiny forced upon him since birth. Even knowing he could be saving the whole world, even when Dumbledore all but swore his guaranteed safety, he couldn't bring himself to act before.

But he finally did!

He did when it really counted, and it had all been because of her and for her.

She couldn't speak. But Draco stared deep into her hopeful honey eyes and saw that she knew he was right.

Like the beginning of their first time, lifetimes ago in their honeymoon suite, with Draco enraged and Hermione in nothing but a towel held to her chest, Hermione just let him come towards her. Once again she let him push her up against the wall as his mouth devoured hers. They kissed deeply and passionately as her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs his waist. She kissed him aggressively all over his face and then slid her tongue as deeply in his mouth as she could when his lips finally caught hers.

They broke apart to gasp for air, and Draco began to kiss a line up her neck, hold her body tightly into his where it felt like it fit so perfectly.

"Will you take me to be your lawfully wedded husband till death do we part?" he breathily asked, his tongue playing with her ear.

"I do," she whispered.

Draco looked at her face and their eyes locked tightly onto each others again. Without breaking eye contact he pulled Hermione's legs loose from his waist only to scoop her up into both his arms. She clung to his neck as he began to carry her.

No, not to her bed, their cat had just curled up to a nap there, but through the door to his room, over the threshold they never crossed on their other wedding night, and into his bedroom where he would lay her down and make love to his wife.

… … …

Draco and Hermione Malfoy would spend the rest of the recent future acclimating first their loved ones and then their friends to their now genuine marriage. They paid little mind to the public's response however. If they didn't like it, trust it, believe it, whatever- it didn't really matter to them.

In fact, Hermione was not the least bit bothered by it, as she had found a fantastic new reservoir of strength. She was finally sleeping soundly at night again. And it was an immersive relief! She was back to her old self again, and she felt as though she could take on anything.

She just could not believe that she never realized it before, but as it would turn out, the only conditions in which she could receive a proper night's sleep, with wonderfully pleasant dreams, was when her husband Draco Malfoy was laying quite warm and snuggly right next to her.


End file.
